A palpable tension hung in the air between you and Simon, a combination of an unconfessed attraction and hatred. It has been years since this back and forth kept on going, coming from different teams with old disagreements. And as the second in command from the Shadow company, you completely disagreed the reconcilement with the Task Force.

Perhaps there was an only reason to your disagreement, that damn lieutenant. Simon enjoyed provoking you, whether through irritating comments or remarks that enraged you, until things got physical. Coming back from a mission, where you two were forced to collaborate in pair, the unexpected happened, leading to a failure due to a tiny distraction from Simon. And you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Blow after blow, dodge to dodge — you had fought before, many times actually, but today it felt oddly different from the others as you let out all your bottled emotions.

Everything was going smooth, you were so close to the intel and he had to ruin it all.

His eyes met yours for a fraction of a second, before your combat knife pressed against his chest, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair. Standing in a close proximity, his ragged breath fanned over your face, “Why the fuck didn’t you carry out our plan? I distracted them.” You snapped, your knife threatening him.

“You started undressing.” He snapped back, his jaw clenching in frustration, something flashing in his irises, “And they weren’t the only ones distracted by you.”