DECODE ~ GHOST [Editing]

04| Depression

0319hours

His heartbeat thrummed steadily beneath my palm, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside me. The steady rhythm was unnervingly close, pulsing beneath the thin layer of fabric, almost intimate, especially in this cramped space where the only light was a fractured beam seeping through the slats of the closet door. His hand, large and commanding, pressed against my shoulder, forcing my head into the hollow of his neck. I was trapped within his iron grip. I hadn't expected this closeness, not from a man who wore a skull mask as though it were part of his skin—a grim reminder of death.

I told myself it was for protection, to shield me from the prying eyes of those lingering outside. But deep down, a darker part of me, the part I barely acknowledged, wanted this to be deliberate. As if he had orchestrated the entire situation just to bring us here, in this suffocating space where our breaths mingled, warm and shared, while our eyes conveyed unspoken things.

I tilted my head back slightly, breaking the contact from the rough warmth of his chest, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were locked on mine, dissecting every inch of my face with a quiet intensity that made my skin prickle. His heartbeat remained maddeningly steady, unwavering. If our positions were reversed, could I maintain such control? Or would my pulse betray me?

The dim, golden light cast shadows across our faces, revealing the sharp lines and hidden scars etched into his skin. His lashes were an almost ghostly white beneath dark brows, furrowed in that familiar expression of irritation, or perhaps something more. His gaze bored into me, a silent warning mixed with something I couldn't quite place, while his grip on me tightened.

In here, we were vulnerable—exposed in ways neither of us would admit.

Ghost was usually guarded, concealed behind dark sunglasses, the infamous skull mask that obscured his features from the world. It was a part of his armor, protecting him as much as it did others from seeing the damage beneath. And now, in this fractured light, the truth of him was revealed: the heavy purple rings under his eyes, the ghost of a scar across his cheekbone. He wasn't some untouchable soldier; he was marked by the same horrors we all carried, but wore them as his shield.

Outside, footsteps echoed against the creaking floorboards, the quiet shuffle of unknown operators moving past. I couldn't see them, but I felt their presence in the way the air tensed, both of us holding our breath, waiting. Ghost's eyes tracked their movement in the shadows while I focused on the space beyond, daring not to exhale. We both wanted them gone, knowing that if it came to a fight, there would be no alliances here—just survival.

I wondered about Gaz. Had he taken down Soap yet? Or were they, too, hiding in the shadows, playing the same deadly waiting game?

"They're gone," Ghost's voice broke through the silence, low and rasping, his breath fanning across my cheek, burning it in the chilled air. His voice was rough, abrasive, yet it sent a pulse of heat through me. "We should find the others," he added, the words sharp but edged with something else.

But he hadn't let go. His arms still held me, his presence overwhelming, suffocating in the most dangerous way. And I wasn't sure if I wanted him to.

He watched me as I ground the heel of my palm into his chest, pushing him away, though it felt more like an act of self-preservation than rejection. I tried to hide how I felt about him, burying it beneath a thin veil of disdain. "The less time I spend around you, the better," I said, my voice dripping with forced indifference.

"Ditto," he replied, his voice low, dismissive. The door creaked open, and Ghost stepped out into the dim hallway, finally standing to his full imposing height. He moved with purpose, each step deliberate as though he had already forgotten me. His hands were extended, ready to engage with whatever lay ahead. I lingered in the shadows, watching him go, a strange pull keeping my gaze locked on him.