Chamber of Reflection - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC

Chapter Nine: Arachnid

What is the best cure for a soldier who can't sleep? An honest answer would be to shoot him in the head and dump his body into an unmarked grave. A more practical answer however would be a warm cup of tea, a good book, or even a jog around the running track. Smoke had chosen the latter option. So now here she was, pushing her lungs until they burned and her legs felt like they would give out underneath her. The night sky glittered above her, dotted with stars whose light filtered through the clouds and foggy haze that always seemed to hang over the base like a thick blanket. The air was cool and crisp, with just enough bite to it that reminded her of home. Her nose was full of it as well, the smell of fresh leaves and dewdrops mingling together to make her feel grounded. The sweat from her run soaked into her clothes and clung to her skin like dew on flowers.

Smoke let her legs slow down and she bent over, bracing herself with her hands on her knees. She breathed in and out slowly. The moon shone brightly down on her, casting shadows across her skin, making her seem otherworldly. She wondered if anyone else could see her. She wondered if she looked like a wraith wandering the forests of Russia, or some mythical being out of the bedtime stories Mrs Mikhailova used to read to her. Her hands slipped off her knees and fell back to her sides, and her breath left in one long sigh, as she straightened up. Even when she was at her most exhausted, her mind never slowed down long enough to take her to rest.

Her throat was dry as dust, her limbs heavy as lead. Her hand rubbed her neck, trying to massage away the tightness. She needed water. And a cigarette. She walked towards the base's main building, careful not to slip in the mud and wet grass. She beelined straight for the recreational room, which had become one of her favourite rooms. It was always so full of life, especially in the evenings. Soap and Gaz would be huddled together on the tattered couches, playing a game of cards. Price would be watching M.A.S.H or whatever rerun of some old nineties show was on the TV, squinting to read the subtitles. Ghost was usually a no-show, of course, but on the off-chance he was there, he'd be sitting in the corner of the room. Silent, brooding— almost invisible in the sea of colour and noise. His dark eyes would always follow her as she moved about, cataloguing everything about the environment, and his brow was furrowed in thought.

Smoke entered the room and turned towards the kitchenette. Her fingers flicked through the tea sachets on the counter, humming to herself.

"Gone for a run?" Asked a familiar, gruff voice.

Smoke jumped a little in surprise, nearly dropping her packet.

She spun around, taking a sharp breath before she looked into those dark eyes. "Christ, lieutenant," she breathed. "For a big guy, you're awfully quiet."

He stood behind her, leaning casually against the kitchen island and crossing his arms over his chest, watching her.

"Big guy?" He raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit. "You takin' the piss out of my height?"

Smoke paused. "I didn't mean... it's just that—"

"Yeah, I know what you meant." He leaned forward a bit, tilting his head slightly, examining her.

Smoke met his gaze, meeting his eyes unflinchingly. She was surprised by how much she liked looking at him. His eyes, though brown as coffee, held flecks of amber and gold in them, held a depth in them that told a story, a past that was still shrouded in mystery. He watched her, waiting for her to break, but instead, she stared back, searching for the words to fill that deep gaze. Finally, the silence grew too awkward and Smoke broke first, turning her attention to the kettle and setting it on the stovetop for a few minutes. They were silent during that time, listening to the sound of boiling water.

She turned to the cupboard, reaching up for a mug. Her fingertips just barely skimmed it before a hand wrapped around hers, stopping her progress. Smoke froze, eyes widening slightly. She felt his grip tighten and her pulse skyrocketed, feeling the heat rise up inside her. Ghost took a step closer, his chest brushing against her back. Smoke couldn't breathe. The heat radiating off of him was intoxicating.