The Ghost of You - Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

SKETCH

  The sun had made its commute over the hills, leaving an admixture of soft pinks, oranges, and purples in the sky above. Soon enough, the nautical twilight gleamed through the empty hallways of the base. After a cleansing shower, you met Soap in the shared room. He laid back against a fort of pillows, scrolling through his phone. You waltz over, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking to see what he was watching. "Soap?" You inquired, laying back against his headboard. "Yeah?"

"What do you know about Ghost?"

Soap put his phone down on his chest, laying his head back against the pillow to look up at you. "I don't, lass. I wish I could help you but I know just as much as you do. He's all business." Mactavish stated, running a hand over his mohawk. You mentally cursed, sighing audibly in frustration. "This is just who Ghost is, I'd be afraid the world was ending if he wasn't. But trust me, Y/N," He started, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes "he does care secretly. He wouldn't be in 141 if he didn't." You nodded your head, slightly disappointed that you had nothing to base your motives from. Gaining Ghost's trust was going to be increasingly more difficult without even a hint of who he was behind the mask. That was it, you had to get behind the mask.

You noticed he was tired, so you rose to your feet and looked out of the window. The stars began to come out one by one, and you knew you couldn't stand Ghost up. "Where are you going, love?" Soap called, hearing the door creak open. Nosy bastard. "I'm going to play cards." Simple, no further explanation needed. "Have fun with Ghost, Y/N. Don't stay out too late either, we've got a mission tomorrow." He yawned, turning over on his side facing the wall. You paused, your hand lingering on the door knob. You wondered how he could talk about the mission so casually like it was just another day at work. Maybe to him it was. "No guarantees."

—

Slowly, you strolled along the walls of the base to soak in the beauty of the blue hue shining through the windows. It had been a minute since you felt so peaceful away from home, but the quiet atmosphere of the night gave you that security. You arrived at the closed lounge door, seeing that the lights were off inside by the tapered glass. 'Is Ghost not here yet?' You wondered before peeking inside and answering your own question.

Ghost was sitting at the banquet table, swirling a half-empty glass of bourbon in his hand and filling his eyes with the soft cobalt blue lighting the moon offered through the window. A deck of playing cards sat neatly stacked in the middle of the table, along with two pillar candles alight. The soft glow of the candlelight was just enough to illuminate the table's surface and bounce shadows across the tiled floors. You placed your hand on the door handle, easing it open. The door gave away with a creak, the sound echoing in the large lounge room. You instantly earned Ghost's attention, his posture straightening. "You came." He stated, placing his glass down and his eyes boring into you.

Walking over, you took your seat in front of him and took in the cinnamon apple scents of the candles. "I said I would." You replied, scooting your chair up to get closer to the table. Your legs grazed against Ghost's from the short width of the banquet table. You tried giving him space, but he didn't try to move his legs away from yours. Without another word, Ghost grabbed the deck of cards and shuffled while you watched. He dealt the board, your hand, then his. There was a comfortable, understood stillness as you played, enhancing wins and loses rather quickly. While he was in deep thought about his next move, you observed him and noticed the small imperfections around his eyes and on the bridge of his nose.

You could see a visible scar run in the middle of his eyebrow, and another smaller one on the edge of his tear duct. Small, pigmented freckles placed themselves near his eyes, snaking up to his brows. "Do you wear the mask because you're ugly?" You asked bluntly, breaking the shared tranquility. He peered up at you, showing no hint of offense or shock. Ghost flipped a card over on the board. "Quite the opposite." He replied, tapping his finger on the table. You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, studying the hand you were dealt. You had nothing of good value, so you decided to instigate Ghost further on his claim. "Describe yourself." You demanded, folding your hand and tossing your cards on the stack. Ghost's eye twitched, gathering up the stack of cards and sighing. "I'm not good with words."

You felt defeated, huffing and watching him routinely shuffle and deal the next hand like clockwork. It was going to be a bitch trying to get information on him, to even know who you were working with. In your case, against. After he handed himself his cards, he drew another one off the top of the deck. You watched him intently, perplexity working into your complexion. Ghost pulled a pen from his pocket, tapping the click end against the table. He leaned over the table, starting to scribble on the back of the card he just drew. He sketched on the back of the card, shielding his process from your view. You tried craning your neck around his hand to see what he was doing, but he wouldn't let you see. You plopped back against your chair, scoffing. "This is stupid, Ghost." You hissed, tapping your foot. "Hold on, hold on. I'm almost done." Ghost urged, finally clicking the pen and putting it down.

Ghost pushed the card to you, and you picked it up hesitantly. Flipping it over, you saw that he had drawn a rough sketch of his jawline and lips in detail. He stopped there, leaving the upper half of his face blank, Including his hair. You smiled in amusement, looking up. "You might not be good at your words, but you're an okay artist." You teased, searching his expression to no avail. "Thank you, Ghost. For opening up." Ghost waved you off, outstretching his hand for the card. Ghost took it back after you placed it in his hand and shuffled it back into the deck without another word. "If you can call it that. Let's get back to what we came here for, Y/N." He muttered, cutting the deck. It was getting late, and you both had the mission tomorrow.

You were nervous. Your smile fades back to seriousness as he passes out the cards, setting up for another round. You peek at yours and look up to Ghost. He waits on you, studying his hand against the board deep in concentration.

"I fold." You announce, making him perk up. "Why? We haven't even started." He griped, causing the biggest, shit-eating grin to cross your face. This only supported your claim on his competitiveness. He wanted you to bluff, to study him. "You have a king of hearts." Ghost was at a loss of words, sitting up in his chair and leaning on the table. "How do you know that?" You pointed to the back of one of his cards, and he followed your gaze. Ghost flipped the card over and saw his drawing on the back. He let out an exasperated exhale, tossing the card on the board. "Fuckin' hell. I forgot." He chuckled, and you lit up with excitement. "Did I just hear THE Ghost laugh?" Ghost's eyes averted from the table, wandering around the room. "It's the alcohol talking, nothing more." He admitted, grabbing his touched glass of bourbon and offering it to you. "Have at it."

You reached for the glass in acceptance, your hand brushing slowly against Ghost's warm touch. You bobbed your head in thanks, downing the little bit of bourbon left in the glass. It burned going down, but it also felt relaxing. Ghost watched you down the last bit of his drink, making no effort to deal back the cards. You placed the glass down beside you, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "That's just enough to piss someone off." You joked, giggling softly. Ghost still remained quiet, observing. You looked down at the board, focusing your attention on the drawing Ghost did on the back of the card. You picked it up again, viewing it at different angles against the candlelight. The semi-transparency of the card shown through, the mixed colors of the king's picture blending into Ghost's drawing.

"Ghost?"

"..."

"Why did you join 141?"

"Don't push your luck, rookie." Ghost warned, his voice dropping in octaves of displeasure. "I'm sorry, I didn't...-" You pried your eyes from the card, watching Ghost push out from the table and stand up. He put the candles out with his fingers, leaving you in the shadows of the moonlight. The light smoke from the wicks swirled in the air, dissipating in thin air. You tossed the card back on the pile and pushed your own chair out, remaining seated. "Where are you going?" You asked, your eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. "Bed. Mission tomorrow." He replied bluntly, grabbing his glass from the table and pushing his chair in. Ghost started to walk away; his shoulders hunched over slightly. You furrowed your brows.

"Ghost?" Your throat tensed up, and he remained in pace towards the neon exit sign above the door where you entered. "Yeah?" He called back, swinging the door open with his hips. "Same time tomorrow?" You bit your lip, bracing yourself for a sarcastic, brutal, or void response. While you both played poker, Ghost seemed to play chess with his words. He protected his king, his sense of self, his winning piece. No matter how many times you kept him in check, he overtook you, putting you back to square one. Ghost placed his hand against the doorframe, tapping the empty glass in his opposing hand against the metal post separating the double doors. "Yeah. Same time tomorrow." He disappeared from the doorway, and you could hear his footsteps wander further down the hall. "Goodnight, Ghost." You called out to him, but there was no response. There it was.

The void.