𝓘𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 || 𝒢𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 ☽

Part 6. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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<3

After fifteen minutes of suffocating in the warm, recycled air of this monotonous truck, we found ourselves driving down a narrow, forested path. The ride was bumpy, making us bounce around uncomfortably.

In the distance, I spotted a large, nondescript safe house. It was a plain, grey structure, devoid of any signs of life. Is this where we're supposed to meet the Mexican contacts?

"Is this the place?" I asked, scrutinizing the surroundings.

"Yes, yes it fucking is," Price responded, gazing out the window with an oddly captivated expression, despite the safe house looking like an absolute dump.

The building appeared dusty and rusty, yet somehow well-maintained. If I were in charge, I'd tear it down and rebuild, but clearly, these people had their own priorities.

Ghost, however, didn't share Price's fascination. He stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought. My gaze inadvertently lingered on him. Why do I feel this way? Ever since that moment on the jet, my heart races whenever I think about him or see him. A mix of excitement and happiness floods over me, and I crave his touch again.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't notice we had parked outside the safe house. I snapped back to reality, hitting my head softly with my hand. Focus, Y/n. You barely know him. There's no time for distractions when there's work to be done.

Ghost and Price were already outside while I was still lost in my thoughts inside the truck. What an embarrassment.

The driver cleared his throat, staring at me pointedly. Feeling awkward, I hurriedly exited the vehicle.

"Sorry, sorry," I muttered, closing the door. As the truck drove off, smoke billowed into my face, making me cough. What an idiot. I waved my hand to clear the air, feeling frustrated.

I hadn't realized the door to the safe house was wide open, meaning Ghost and Price had already gone inside. Great. I approached the entrance, where an unfamiliar voice, smooth yet harsh with a clear Mexican accent, echoed.

I peeked through the door and saw Price, Ghost, and a man I didn't recognize standing around a table, deep in conversation. The man was shorter than Ghost, with pitch-black hair, dark brown eyes, and a light beard.

Inside, the safe house was vast, filled with vehicles, weapons, and ammunition. It was loud, with numerous voices and sounds. These must be the people we're working with. Interesting.

Pressing my back against the wall, I exhaled, trying to calm myself before stepping inside. But before I could compose myself, Ghost appeared.

"Y/n, come inside," he said, his tone cold.

"Give me a minute or two," I replied, placing my hand over my forehead and staring down at my shoes.

"Something wrong?" Ghost asked, his voice softer now. I could see his shoes and shadow in front of me.

"Ghost, don't worry about me," I said harshly, looking up at him with annoyance. "I'm just taking some fresh air."

"Is that so?" Ghost tilted his head, looking at me with curiosity.

"Yes, I'm fine," I said, smiling faintly.