Chapter 32: Under the Surface

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Soap's POV:

The mess hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter, the clinking of utensils and the hum of conversations creating a familiar backdrop. I sat there, my breakfast half-eaten, still reeling from what had just happened. Ghost had left me speechless, a whirlwind of confusion and desire coursing through me.

As the team continued their usual banter around the table, I could hardly focus. The sensations from moments before lingered, an electrifying reminder of Ghost's audacity. I felt a mix of anger and a reluctant thrill at what he had done. I needed to clear my head, to find some semblance of control.

"I'll be back," I muttered, pushing my chair back and standing up. My voice was strained, barely above a whisper. No one seemed to notice, too engrossed in their meals and conversations.

I made my way to the bathroom, my steps quick and purposeful. The door closed behind me with a heavy thud, the noise cutting off the sounds from the mess hall. I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge tightly, my knuckles white with tension.

"Damn it, Ghost," I hissed under my breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was flushed, my eyes wide and filled with a mix of frustration and something I didn't want to name.

I turned on the tap, splashing cold water on my face in an attempt to cool down. The shock of it helped, but only slightly. My mind was still racing, images of what had just transpired playing on a loop. I couldn't shake the memory of his touch, the way he had so casually crossed that line.

"What the hell is he doing to me?" I muttered, running a hand through my hair. I was angry, no doubt about it. But there was something else, a part of me that couldn't deny the rush of excitement, the twisted pleasure in his boldness.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "Get a grip, Johnny," I told myself, gripping the edge of the sink again. "You can't let him get to you like this."

But the truth was, he had already gotten to me. More than I cared to admit.

I dried my face with a paper towel, the cool air of the bathroom a stark contrast to the heat still lingering in my body. I needed to confront him, to make him understand that he couldn't just do things like that. But the thought of facing him, of the inevitable teasing and that infuriating smirk, made my resolve waver.

"No," I whispered to myself, shaking my head. "I'm not going to give him the satisfaction." I decided then and there to ignore what had happened, to pretend it never did. It was the only way to regain some sense of control.

I stayed in the bathroom for a few more minutes, the silence and solitude a small comfort. Eventually, I knew I had to go back out there, to face him and the rest of the team. I took one last deep breath, steeling myself for whatever came next.

As I walked back to the mess hall, I couldn't help but feel a knot of anticipation in my gut. Ghost had started something, something I wasn't sure I could stop. And as much as I hated to admit it, part of me didn't want to stop it at all.

I rejoined the table, slipping back into my seat. Ghost glanced at me, his expression unreadable, but there was a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. I shot him a glare, hoping it conveyed my frustration and confusion. He just raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur, my mind preoccupied with thoughts of what had happened and what might happen next. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, and eventually, we'd have to talk about it. But for now, I focused on finishing my breakfast, trying to ignore the way my body still hummed with the memory of his touch.

As we finished up and prepared to head out for the day's training, I caught Ghost's eye one more time. He gave me a small, knowing smile, and I felt my resolve waver once again. Whatever game he was playing, I was caught in it, and there was no escaping it now.

I took a deep breath and pushed my chair back, standing up. "I'll see you all out there," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Ghost watched me go, his eyes following my every move. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back, a constant reminder of the power he had over me. I hated it, but I couldn't deny the thrill it brought, the way it made my heart race.

As I stepped outside into the cool morning air, I made a silent promise to myself. I would not let him get to me again. I would keep my distance, focus on the mission, and ignore whatever twisted game he was playing. It was the only way to keep my sanity intact.

But deep down, a part of me knew it wouldn't be that simple. Ghost had a way of getting under my skin, of breaking down my defenses with just a look or a touch. And no matter how much I tried to resist, I was drawn to him, unable to escape the pull he had on me.

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