Enemies.

Part Two.

Your teeth grit against each other. Ghost frustrated you in a way that you didn't know was possible. "Learn to respect me, and I'll reciprocate that respect..." You glare. "Until then, fuck you, Ghost."

His head tilted, scoffing in disbelief. "You little fuckin'-" You turn and walk away before he gets to finish his thought. His hand meets his masked face as he wipes the area of his mouth and chin in irritation.

He pissed you off, no doubt about it. But you? You got under his skin faster than anyone. A little over an hour, to be exact.

Thoughts about your last encounter with Ghost fill your mind as you walk toward the training room. You attempt to prepare yourself for the tension that was to come.

You walk in at 0500. On. The. Dot. "You're thirty seven seconds late," That arrogant British accent startles you from the shadows.

Here we go.

"I think your watch is just thirty seven seconds fast," You growl, hitting your shoulder against his as you walk past him. A tight grip forms around your arm.

"Don't get physical with me... I will fucking end you," His tone was forbidding, his eyes showing every ounce of pent up anger he had pushed down.

"Same goes for you, asshole," You grab his wrist, pulling his grasp off of you, then throwing his hand back to his own body.

"Bloody hell," He whispers under his breath, attempting to maintain a professional composure. His frustration was palpable, and you could have sworn you saw steam coming out of his ears.

You really got under his skin. Any other person would have backed off by now, but you match his energy with your smartass remarks. He hated it.

Apparently Ghost just turns the autopilot on in your mind, because your eyes seem to roll everytime he opens his mouth. "Whatever," You scoff. "Where are the others?" Price said this training would be a team effort, so where the hell was the rest of the team?

"After you kindly left, I requested to have a little one on one training with you," The confession leaves his lips with a smug smile. You saw it in his eyes.

"Count me out," You turn your body around to walk out the door, but a familiar grasp finds your arm once again. "Oh, but we have to find some sort of mutual respect for each other, don't ya think?"

You were still facing away from him as he talked to you. "With you?" I laugh. "There is no respect to find." You tug your arm away but his grip only tightens.

He chuckles darkly. "You sound nervous. Do I make you nervous?" He taunts. Still facing away, you take a composing breath before you choose your next few words.

"Yes." You confess, slowly turning towards his widened eyes. He wasn't expecting you to answer his question the way you did. You smile softly at his speechless expression.

"You make me nervous because you..." You pause with an innocent smile. "You make me want to add 'first degree murder' to my goddamn bucket list," You turn off the act, reverting back to your painfully sarcastic self.

Enraged Simon Riley is not someone any sane person would want to encounter. Yet, you encouraged it. You enjoyed the fact that you bothered him so much.

"Smartass," His eyes fall to a glare again, stepping towards you in a brooding manner. "Well deserved," Unbothered, your shoulders give a slight shrug.

His demeanor changes. He grips the back of his neck. "Keep it up. I dare you, Y/N," His eyes presented his annoyance. "Go to hell, Ghost!" Your voice raises a little more than you wanted.

"I'm already there, dumbass," His eyes wander up and down your entire body. He steps even closer, getting in your face. You don't flinch, and that only drives his irritation to a breaking point.

"Now get on your fucking knees."