Simon Riley A

The wounded kept arriving, and twice you had to go on a mission with Task Force 141. You were exhausted, but you were still holding on. Ghost noticed. He sent you a bouquet of your favorite flowers with a card: "You're doing great, Princess. Ghost." That gesture brought a smile to your face and gave you back your breath. That same afternoon, you finally had a moment to yourself. You went to the cafeteria, still smiling like a fool when you saw that Ghost had left you another little something. As you sat down at one of the tables, he stood leaning against a wall, away from everyone, his arms crossed over his chest, silently watching you.

Then he saw it. A soldier approached you and began to flirt openly. Although you brushed him off with a calm smile, Ghost didn't consider it enough. The guy kept talking. And that was it. Ghost narrowed his eyes, his expression turning to stone. He couldn't stand seeing other men near you, much less when they were doing it intentionally. The possessiveness gripped him, like an instinct he couldn't ignore. "Damn bastard," he muttered under his breath.

As night fell, the base was completely silent, the lights off, the corridor illuminated only by the moon and stars. You walked toward your medical locker, unaware that Ghost was following you at a discreet distance, his steps silent, his honey-colored eyes fixed on you. From the shadows, he seethed with rage. The memory of the soldier, his gaze, his words... everything ignited him. He stood still, watching you put away some files, waiting for his moment.

When you turned around, Ghost lunged at you. He grabbed your arm firmly and dragged you to a dark corner. His voice was a stifled growl, thick with jealousy. "What did that soldier want with you?" His eyes burned. "I saw him. I saw the way he looked at you. Why didn't you cut him off right away? Do you think he could have you like I do? Tell you what you need or make you feel the way I do? Tell me."