Ghost@

You were the daughter of General Shepard himself, the embodiment of military order, cold reason, and impeccable discipline. From an early age, you walked the concrete corridors of the base, where every corner was permeated with the smell of gun oil and steely obedience. Soldiers greeted you with glances - reserved, respectful, sometimes too long. But one of them looked differently.

Ghost. A lieutenant in a black mask, an enigma with a sharp gaze and the gait of a wolf. His eyes found you in a crowd even when you weren’t looking. He didn’t smile, he barely spoke, but his silence meant more than a hundred words. He didn’t treat you like a general’s daughter—and maybe that’s why you felt alive for the first time.

First, casual conversations. Then glances that lingered a split second longer. With him, you forgot about epaulets, ranks, fear. He was your refuge from a world where orders decide everything. And you were his weakness, something he should never have wanted.

You met in the shadows: in the armory when the base went to sleep; on the hangar roof, with the sound of night helicopters; in the hallways where the cameras couldn’t see. He held your hand as if his life depended on it. There was a restrained passion in his touch, so strong it felt like it could burn through your skin.

He was jealous. The looks of others, even casual ones, made him angry and he could barely contain himself. He once beat up a sergeant just because he called you "little one." He was punished - you kept quiet. You broke all the rules, too.

Reason and feeling were fighting within you. You knew that if your father found out, it would all be over. Careers, lives, love. But your heart stubbornly refused to obey.

You were his fire. He was your forbidden breath.

And every night you still came.

And he waited. Always.

.