Enemies.

Part Four

It had been over a day since you had complained to Price about Ghost. And you hadn't seen either of them since. Your anxiety started kicking in. What would happen to him?

You were never a snitch before, but you had to show Ghost that you were a force to be reckoned with. He took it too far. You weren't about to spend every day with TF141 being controlled by him.

So you cut his domination short.

When you told Price, he was very upset. "As soldiers, you have to respect and trust your teammates in order for anything to work." He told you. Of course, you got an earful for disrespecting Ghost, but he was going to have it way worse.

It was late at night, and the nerves never settled down. You found yourself in the training room again, letting off some leftover steam on the punching bags.

Right, left, right, right. Left, right, left, left. Repeat. Each punch got more and more intense, relieving you of every ounce of sealed off anger you had towards the situation.

Sweat dripped into your eyes, burning as you try to blink the pain away. No good. You step away, burying your face in a towel. The door slamming open brings your gaze up.

"You fuckin' baby!" His voice even more British with anger. Ghost storms toward you. "You're a little tattletale! What can't handle a few pushups?" He yells in your face.

Luckily, he was wearing his mask, otherwise you would have gotten a face full of spit. "A few?!" You yell in return. "I did pushups for 25 goddamn minutes!" With glaring eyes, he doesn't flinch as you scream back.

"You're fuckin' weak, Y/N." He chuckles, but his laugh contained no amusement. Just unadulterated frustration. "I almost lost my job because of you!" His voice held so much emotion, yet his eyes only showed anger.

"You threatened to get me kicked off! I'd say we are even, asshole!" Your voice matched his volume. "A threat is not the same thing as actually fuckin' going through with it!" He defends himself.

You sigh, bringing your voice to a quieter volume. "You deserve everything that comes your way, you son of a bitch."

Thwack!

Your head turned as Ghost's hand met your cheek, leaving a red, stinging sensation. Your own hand soothes the pain as you slowly turn your head back toward him.

Regret fills his eyes. "Y/N, I-" He stutters. "Fucking asshole!" Your words cut him off as you charge for him, tackling him to the ground. You sit on top of him delivering punch after punch.

You rip his mask off, hardening the blows to his face. "You!" Punch. "Fucking!" Punch. "Suck!" Punch. He growled before rolling over, pinning you down underneath him.

He gave his fair share of punches, but not one met your face. They shot straight into your sides, causing you to flex each time he drew back to throw another punch.

You kicked, punched back, and yelled until he pulled his arm back one last time. "Are you fuckin' done being a bitch?" He asks threateningly, ready to hurl his arm towards you if needed.

"Go." You pant. "Fuck. Yourself." Your exhausted sigh is interrupted by one last punch to your ribs. This one hurt. A lot. But it gave you the anger, the energy, to give yourself one last shot at winning this fight.

You knee him in the crotch, his body collapsing down in reaction. Using that vulnerable moment, you roll over once more, putting yourself on top on him.

Instead of punching, you take his hands and pin them to the mat above his head. Your face was inches away from his, feeling his heavy breathing on your own lips.

As you looked into each other's eyes, only your panting filled the room. Sweat beads formed on both of your foreheads, your body heat radiating off of each other.

You watch as Ghost's eyes wander down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. Then it was your turn, your gaze flicking to his lips for the shortest second, returning right back to his piercing blue eyes.

"Goddamnit, Y/N." His hearty laugh shakes you on top of his stomach. The sudden change in attitude had you puzzled, your head tilting down at him.

"Don't look at me like that," He warns. Your hands slowly release his wrists as you both begin to relax. Feeling the pain of his punches, your hands clench your ribcage.

His hands move on top of yours. "I'm sorry," He says softly, moving your hands and shirt out of the way so he can see how bad you were hurt. Goosebumps form as his fingers come in contact with your bare skin.

His thumb gently sweeps over the your sensitive, bruised skin. "Mhm," The attitude within you was loud and proud. He laughs. "To be fair, you had it coming..." He shrugs his shoulders.

You scoff, giving him a light slap on his shoulder. "You started it!" He smiles, "That I did," His hands stop comforting and fall to your hips.

Your eyes roll playfully, grabbing his wrists to pull his hands off of your hips. When you try, his grip only tightens. "Did you just roll your eyes at me, Y/N?"

"Yes, now let go or else," You try to threaten him, but it's softened by your giggle as you speak. "Those pushups mean nothing to you?" He acts offended.

"Nope," You smile proudly. "Guess your punishments don't really work," You taunt, still attempting to escape his grasp.

"Hm, sounds like I need to revise my methods." He pauses, "Especially for a brat like you." He subtly bites his lips, anxiously waiting for your reaction.

"Oh yeah?" Your head tilts innocently. "Yeah," He demands, his hands finding your back and pushing your body towards him.

Your hands fall to the mat, catching yourself from falling all the way on him. One hand is placed on each side of his head as you look down at him. A smirk forms across his smug face.

"What are you waiting for, Y/N?"