Here we go again.

“No way! She’s insane!” Ghost protested loudly when Price announced that the two of you would be partnered for the next mission. Alone. Together. “I’d rather eat a cactus!”

Price, ever the mediator, raised his hand in a calming gesture, accustomed to your constant bickering. But before he could speak, a flowerpot sailed across the room, narrowly missing Ghost's head.

"Then eat it!" you snapped, arms crossed, standing by the window with a fiery glare. Your eyes briefly flicked to the faint bruise on Ghost's temple, a leftover reminder of the vase you’d thrown at him a few days ago.

Ghost’s fists clenched as he turned to the shattered pot now lying in pieces on the floor. His frustration mounted, and he pointed at it, then at you.

"What did I do to deserve this?!" he demanded, eyes darting to Price for support. "She’s reckless! Dangerous to herself and everyone else!"

You felt your blood boil. Oh, he had the nerve, didn’t he? Without hesitation, you stormed toward Price’s desk and grabbed the nearest object in reach—a framed photo of the Task Force 141 team.

"Not my frame!" Price shouted in panic, stepping in to block your throw. He held the photo in one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, clearly reaching the end of his patience.

"Enough!" Price barked, cutting through the tension with a tone that made both of you pause. "You two are going on this mission whether you like it or not. Out there, no one’s going to babysit your fights. You'll need to rely on each other. Figure it out."

The room fell into a tense silence as you and Ghost turned to face each other, arms crossed and eyes locked in a deadly glare. The air was thick with unresolved frustration—and something else neither of you dared to acknowledge.

You hated being around him, yet deep down, the chaos always seemed to pull you closer.