Debug is a reformed cyber-terrorist with a computer engineering/coding background. After a very unpleasant experience overseas she is recruited to work for the government while trying to cope with her mental trauma and the physical scars. Through he...
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Summary: After finding out Ghost is leaving for a while you accidentally confess your feelings, let's say he's more than a little pleased. ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵)
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When he showed up today offering to walk you back to your room, the gesture seemed a bit unusual. It's just that you'd been seeing a lot of him today, not that you were complaining. You'd finished up a bit early so the halls hadn't quite cleared out yet, but walking beside his grim figure you felt at ease.
Ghost's never been the most talkative guy, but something seemed off today. Besides an initial greeting, he had said little of anything, and you'd been mulling over the potential causes the entire day. In moments like these, you wished your social skills were a touch sharper. Instead, you're just quietly sauntering off toward your room, the air thick between you. Words tumbling around your brain but lacking the audacity to just spit them out.
You'd been studying him out of the corner of your vision, how his pace slowed well before your door came into view. This rather standoffish demeanor, despite clearly wanting to be near you, you just wished he would tell you what was wrong. Your thoughts are halted as he turns towards you, dark eyes catching yours.
There's a storm raging within them.
"I'll be gone for a few weeks." There's a long pause. "Leaving asap," the last bit spoken quieter.
"It's alright, I would have probably figured it out after a few days of not seeing you." Having spent more time pondering the situation than choosing your phrasing, the statement comes out rigid. As though you'd plucked the wrong cue card from your clutter-filled head. Though true, you hadn't meant for it to sound so disinterested.
He doesn't normally tell you this kind of stuff...
"Thought you'd wanna know," he says in an earnest tone that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
This unanticipated hurt erupts in his eyes, and you're left clawing through your mind for something to atone for the unforeseen damage of your words. That 1000-yard stare of his drifts off down the hallway, far away. Panic-stricken, you blurt out the first thing strewn from your thrashing heart.
"Sorry, I'm just not used to the people I love telling me when they're leaving." It slips out before you even realize what you've done.
Dread setting in and your gaze becomes wide and fixated on the ground in front of you. Lips still parted, internally mortified by your untimely confession. Feeling as though all the heat had drained from your body in one fell swoop. Cold with shrinking fear, before color slowly starts blossoming in your face, radiating outward to envelop your chest in a gripping fervor. Heart puttering away as embarrassment seeps through you.
After recovering from the initial blow of your own confession, you fumble to unlock and open the door. He'd relayed his message, maybe if you retreated quietly he'd forget this and you could scrape by with a shred of dignity. Your thoughts race as you reach out to flick on the light in your night-shaded room. Anything to break the unbearable tension of your own doing, but he's now standing right in front of you.
"Don't shut me out this time," he asserts, breaching the entryway to take a slow step forward, backing you into the room. Locked in his gaze, you're starkly unaware as he reaches past you to flick the light back off.
The storm had cleared in his eyes.
As you're plunged into darkness, stunned and disoriented, his solid form collides with yours. Mask bunched up over his nose to capture you in a brief but heated kiss. You're lost in him, mouth hot against yours, his hand buried in your hair. Just barely out of the hallway but concealed behind the wall of his back. There's that fleeting itch again, to draw him further into the room.
But it's gone in an instant, as he pulls away.
"So embarrassed when you let your heart do the talking," he tuts, heated breath against your cheek. Parting from your disheveled form, as you stand there flustered and breathless.
Caressing the top of your head as he withdrawals, you catch a fleeting glimpse of his lingering smile before he's shrouded once again.
"See you in a few weeks, love," his closing words before he disappears into the hallway as if nothing happened.
"Be safe," you hastily call after him.
After THAT, this felt like some kind of cruel payback... Left standing alone in the quiet of your room, releasing a heavy breath as the overwhelming pressure slips from you.
"RUDE," you grumble, turning the light back on and shutting the door. Sitting down at your desk and slumping forward onto the surface, face buried in your crossed arms.
You'd never felt so touch-starved in your life.
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