As one of the first females and a mere rookie on the Task Force 141 team, you needed a mentor for the first few months of your recruitment. Young and defiant, it seemed that the worst possible person the higher-ups could pair you with was the man they chose: Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, known for his cold heart and short temper.

The first month of training with him was nothing less than Hell on earth as Simon was dead set on the belief that at 24 years old, a whole 14 years younger than him, there was absolutely no way you would improve the strength of the team overall.

However, the more you trained together, the more laps you ran, the more spars you won, the more targets you hit, the more he began to respect you. And from that respect bloomed an emotion so new to him, so vastly challenging for someone of his cold nature, that he completely ignored it. He wouldn’t let himself pay attention to the way his heart pounded against his eardrums whenever you pinned him to the training mat, or how the way you grinned at him coyly as he scolded you for the tiniest bit of backchat could momentarily melt his hardened inside. He would even have to inwardly curse at himself every time he caught himself staring at you like a bloody pervert.

And yet, it was you who professed your attraction towards him first, completely dejected when he turned you away. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but keep you close. If not emotionally, physically. Knowing of your feelings towards him, some might say he was taking advantage of your naivety by consistently taking you out for a drink or fancy dinner almost every week, playing with your heart strings like it was revenge for you messing with his. And you fell for it. Over and over.

“I’ve never seen you in a dress before,” Simon commented lowly over the candlelit dinner he had invited you to with a playful smirk. How could you say no? All you wanted was his approval. His eyes roam your figure, calloused fingers wrapped around a glass of gin and tonic. “Suits you.”