Ghosts

Starved

Senna's pov
Song inspo Cold by Boy In Space

The rest of the day passed without incident, Ghost spending most of his time in the garage, insisting that I just rest and take it easy. It was driving me nuts.

It was clear that everything was tucked into the back of my mind, somewhere. I just had to find a way to unlock it.

The memories of sticky notes when Soap handed me the bag of gummy worms, and the way that I felt like I'd known the scot for a long time. It was there, I was sure I could get it back. I was afraid to, I was afraid I wouldn't like the person I discovered but I wasn't sure why.

Ghost looked at me like I was the plague, scared to get too close but also scared not to keep an eye on me. He checked out me throughout the day, never taking off his mask like he had the night before. Did he not want me to see his face if I couldn't remember him?

Had I loved him like he hinted?

Why was it that I felt there was a connection to Johnny, even if as friends but nothing with the man I lived with?

He was treating me as if I was too fragile, like he was afraid to break me, and I needed to know why.

I'd been in the living room, laying on the couch and staring at the ceiling when he came back inside, going straight to the bathroom to shower.

I felt like I was torturing him but he was doing the same to me by not telling me more about our relationship, or myself for that matter.

When he came back out he was in just a pair of sweats and his balaclava. My eyes watched him as he moved to the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove. I took in his build, his scars, the way his muscles tensed as he reached up into a cabinet. He was attractive, terribly so but still unfamiliar.

I suddenly stood, needing to keep the confidence to force him to open up to me. I'd enjoyed his embrace the night before, even if it felt like the first time I had it. Maybe I just needed a little repetitiveness.

"Simon." I said as I moved into the kitchen and stood beside him. He froze when I said his name, eyes slowly moving down to meet my own.

He didn't say anything, the look in his eyes question enough.

"Why are you still wearing your mask?" I asked as I reached up for it. He didn't stop me, letting me pull it off so I could see his face again, his dark brown hair falling into place.

"Habit." He answered quietly.

"Even with me?"

"Just this version of you."

That hurt but I wasn't sure why.

"I didn't mean it like that." He said then, voice full of regret.

"Can I try something?" I asked, meeting his gaze again and he gave me a nod.

I stepped closer, placing my hands on his strong shoulders before slowly sliding them up his neck to cup the sides of his face. He shivered at the touch, eyes turning lazy.

"When did we first meet?" I asked, using how relaxed he seemed now against him.

"After your brother died." He answered as he moved to place his hands over my own. They were warm.

"Two and a half years ago?" I was trying to burn the timeline in my brain.

"Yes."

"And I was in the US for two years? So we only knew each other for half a year?" That didn't make sense to me. How could someone like him look at me like that if we hadn't known each other very long?

"Yes but," He hesitated, letting his eyes close for a moment. I let my hands slide out from under his and continued to move my finger tips over his face, over his lips. I was hoping there would be some type of memory physically.

"But?" I pushed.

"We went through a lot together." He breathed, looking at me once more. I thought his eyes had been darker before but when I was this close I could see they resembled the color of chocolate.

"Like?"

"Senna." He pulled my hands from his face then, keeping them wrapped in his. "The things you've been through, they're…dark."

"You don't think I'm strong enough? I'll have to remember it all eventually." I argued, growing more irritated as he tried to keep me in the dark.

"It's not that. You are the strongest person I know. You just don't deserve to relive all that." He explained and my anger softened just a bit. He was trying to protect me.

"Even if it means not remembering you? What am I supposed to do if I don't? I can't just start a new life. I want the one I had." I pleaded, pulling my hands away from him and taking a step back.

He didn't say anything and I could see he was fighting a war in his head.

"Did you love me?" I asked.

"I still do."

"Why did you let me leave then?" He winced and I could see he felt responsible for what had happened to me. I wanted to take the question back.

"I couldn't have stopped you. I wanted to. But I think you needed it. After Varikov." He explained.

"Varikov?" I asked, the name meaning nothing to me.

"He was a Russian terrorist you took down. He tortured both of us, killed some of our teammates. You risked your own life by staying behind with him so that Soap, Price and I could leave. That's the kind of person you are." Now we were getting somewhere, he wasn't holding back as much.

"What do you mean I stayed behind with him?"

"You held a gun to your head and forced me to leave you there. Made him think you'd taken his deal." The kettle whistled then and he poured us each a cup as I let what he told me sink in.

If he was telling me the truth, and I had no reason to believe he was lying, it had to mean that I loved him too. Threatened him with my own life to save his. I was slowly learning that I was a special kind of psychopath.

I didn't stop myself then as I reached out for him. I had to try, try to find the piece that fit the puzzle to my memories. Something was telling me it was him and that I had to act because he wouldn't. He didn't want to hurt me but that was stopping me from remembering him.

My hands found the sides of his face again and his eyes widened a bit as I leaned up on my toes to press my lips to his. My eyes fluttered closed, taking in how he felt, tasted. Give me something, anything to know that it was true. That I loved him.

At first he hesitated but not for long as his arms snaked around my waist, pulling me into him. I could feel that he craved me, that he missed the version of me I didn't know. Just like the night before I could sense that he was touch starved, having been away from me for years.

When I parted my lips for him he froze before letting go of me and moving away.

I had to catch my breath, surprised at how quickly he retracted from me. What had I done wrong?

There was fear in his eyes, a panic.

"What?" I asked hurriedly.

"I'm sorry, I can't. There's things in your past that I. I can't do that to you until you know me." He explained but it only left me confused again.

"I don't know wh-"

"Senna, please. I want to. You have no idea how much. I just can't."

I felt embarrassed then, heat rushing to my cheeks. This man apparently loved me but couldn't bear to touch me? I'd hoped to get more answers about us, about myself. But now I only had more questions.