Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

FOURTEEN

The sound of bags clanging and thumping onto the hardwood floors of the cabin awoke you. 

Shooting up, you reached for your dagger that you'd left next to the bed, not even looking at the culprit before launching it across the room. The knife had left your hands before you realised who was stooped over the bag, yelping as it flew toward him.

"Simon!" you screeched.

Thankfully, his extreme reflexes had him roll out of the way, the knife thudding as it lodged into the wall behind him.

"Fuckin' hell, (Y/N)." he said, wide eyed under the mask.

"Sorry, forgot where we were for a second." You giggled.

"S'fine." He grunted, turning back from you to continue his packing.

Oh.

Your heart panged painfully for a second, but you reminded yourself that in front of you now was Ghost, not Simon, and that was okay. 

A small part of you did start to wonder if he might have had regrets.

Slowly, with your body aching from the events of hours prior, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, wincing as you retrieved your shirt from the floor. 

One by one, you collected your clothing, getting dressed.

What you didn't see, though, was that every time you so much as swished your hair, Ghost was sneaking glances at you. He watched as you glided your trousers over the supple flesh of your legs, smirking at the faint marks his lips had made that littered your delicate skin. 

He thought you were magnificent. 

Last night was magnificent.

"Ghost, how copy?" the radio went off, stopping you in your tracks.

"Alejandro."

"We're 5 clicks from you, hang tight."

"Copy that."

You frowned, moving in silence to collect the rest of your things, not that you had much of it after having to flee. 

Despite being in Mexico, you shivered. 

With the coldness around you, you assumed it must have been at least as early as 6am, the sun not yet able to warm the air.

"You're cold." His voice came from across the room.

"I'm fine." You said, offering a small smile before looking back out of the window.

Once again you heard the rustling of zips and Velcro, and then you were encased by the warmth of a large garment. 

Pulling it from your head, you held it out; it was his black hoodie. You smiled widely, hauling it over your body. The sheer size of it almost drowned you. The hem almost reached your knees, your arms flapping about like flippers as you raised the hood onto your hair.

Ghost watched you, a puff of air leaving his nose as he scoffed but couldn't help himself smiling. 

You were so cute, so tiny. 

God, even seeing you in his clothes was making his mind fuzzy.

The two of you sat in silence, neither daring to approach the subject of the night before.

Ghost was scared – he'd shown you all of him, now. And he knew you were anxious, observing as you picked at the skin around your thumbs.

A car engine rumbled outside, screeching to a halt.