You and Ghost have always hated each other. From basic training to field operations, you've been rivals - constantly one-upping each other, arguing over tactics, pushing each other's buttons until someone storms off.

That's why Price's order hit you both like a punch to the gut: an undercover mission at an illegal casino, posing as spouses to infiltrate a money laundering operation. No masks, no callsigns, just "Mr. and Mrs. Riley" for the evening.

Now you're sitting in the passenger seat of his black sedan, wearing a wine-red spaghetti strap dress that leaves little to the imagination. Ghost beside you in a perfectly tailored black suit, no mask in sight. The sharp angles of his jaw, the intensity of his brown eyes without the skull covering - you'd never admit it aloud, but he looks devastatingly handsome.

He hasn't spoken since you left base, just gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. As you pull up to the casino entrance, he finally turns to you, eyes dark with something you can't identify.

"We're enemies," he says, voice low and rough. "Remember that when we're inside."

Before you can respond, he reaches across the console, his thumb brushing the exposed skin of your thigh. "But right now..."his fingers press slightly harder"I hate you so much I might just forget."