"The Wisp Of A Ghost" Simon Ghost Riley x Female OC

Chapter 15

When I impulsively bought it I didn't think I'd have use for the summer dress.
But it is summer now, the weather nice and warm, though the bunker is as cool as ever.
And Ghost asked me out on... a date?
Is it a date?
He did tell me to wear something nice.
I guess the blue flowy dress that is hugging my curves, flaring out towards my knees is nice. But maybe too nice?
But then again, if I would be leading a normal life and someone asked me out the same way Simon did - this would be what I would wear.
I decide to wear my hair open, having mostly worn it in a ponytail or bun around the base.
I curse myself for not having bought perfume when I was out in town with my two squadmates weeks ago, but then again I didn't feel the need to.
So I simply spray on some deodorant even though I just showered, my hair still a little damp.
Make-up I didn't have either, just the chapstick Jenny gave me when I arrived.
I know in another life I would have relished in perfecting my make-up skills, but alas it wasn't in the cards in this one, having not put on any make-up in years.
Or maybe I'll get Soap to drive me into town and I might as well start again.
The only shoes I had that somewhat matched my dress were my sneakers, and I curse myself again for not having thought of completing my outfit.
Just when I contemplate about changing into something more casual and cohesive, there's a knock on my door and my heart immediately lurches into my throat.
When I open the door, Ghost stands before me.
He's wearing a black medical mask, his baseball cap and a leather pilot jacket over his shirt.
His eyes widen a little as he looks me up and down and I blush, embarrassed, almost feeling naked in the flowy dress.
It's been so long since I've worn anything other than pants.
"You look beautiful.", he murmurs.

A pang of worry goes through me as we reach the parking lot and he leads me to a black Toyota Supra.
"I'll try to drive more gentle.", Ghost chuckles as he notices me nervously fiddling with my hands.
To be fair, I was mostly nervous about his presence, excitement and anticipation washing through my body.
"I clocked you more for a muscle car kind of guy."
He laughs and opens the passenger door for me.
"I'd have gotten myself a Miata if they weren't so damn small."
"God I love Miatas. A shame I had to sell my old one."
"Really?", he arches his brow and I can tell he's smiling under his mask.
"Maybe you can get yourself another one."

On the road he indeed drives more careful.
We talk for a bit about our shared passions, joking about our favourite game, talking about our favourite music...
I find out we both love cats more than people and that he doesn't like watching movies.
"Oh come on. Not even the classics? Lord of the rings? Star Wars? Harry Potter? Not even Braveheart?", I push, the last suggestion more as a tease.
"God no. MacTavish has forced that one on me too many times than I care to count."
Soon he pulls off the main road, taking a gravel road into the forest, up a hill, before we arrive at a clearing, a steep slope under it giving way to s beautiful view of the countryside.
When I get out of the car, Simon goes and gets something from the trunk - a blanket and a bag.
He spreads the blanket over the soft grass, gesturing me to sit down as he sits down himself before pulling a tupperware filled with berries out of the bag, placing it between us.
He takes off his mask before he grabs more things from the bag - two bottles of water, a thermos I assume is filled with tea, a whole array of canned drinks, a bottle of bourbon as well as more snacks.
"God, it seems like you bought out the whole commissary.", I remark with a chuckle.
"I didn't know what you'd like.", he murmurs before he pulls something else from his bag.
"Johnny told me I should bring those.", he says as he hands me a bag of caramel popcorn.
"Those are my favourite!", I exclaim with a wide smile, looking over to him and giving him a kiss on his cheek as he blushes.
As the time goes on and the sun starts to set in front of us, we talk - discussing topics we are passionate about, sharing more of our interests.
Simon is a big history nerd and we exchange our favourite history facts and stories.
"If you could invite two people from history to dinner - who would you choose?", I ask.
"Thomas Edinson and Nikola Tesla, watching them throw hands. I'd back Tesla of course and I'd end up throwing Edinson out of the restaurant and discuss smart stuff with Tesla. Not that I'd be able to keep up with him though."
"I expected something like Gavrilo Princip or Simo Häyhä, but I'd pay to see Edinson get the shame he deserves."
We both laugh before he asks me about who I'd invite.
"God it's a hard decision. Maybe Churchill and the late Queen? Or how about Major Tatham-Warter? He sounds like a splendid lad to have a drink with. Pair that with Catherine Leroy. But honestly there are just too many I'd love to talk with."
As the time goes on, Simon starts to tell horrible jokes that make me die a little inside before it starts to get cold and I curse myself for not having worn something different.
Simon notices and offers me his jacket.
"But then you'd be cold!", I protest, but he takes it off and puts it around my shoulder.
"So what?", he smiles at me.
I notice I've never seen his arms, always having covered them with a hoodie or jacket. Strong muscular, a few lines of a tattoo peeking out from the fabric hugging his biceps, silver scars littering his skin - but then I see a few fresh wounds on his arms. Wounds I know well.
Cigarette burns.
He notices me staring at them and his smile disappears.
"Self inflicted?", I whisper and he nods.
"Why?"
He sighs.
"A long time ago, after...", he shakes his head before he continues.
"There was a point where I wasn't sure if I was alive or dead. Literally. I started to loose grip on reality. That's when I started. To confirm I'm alive, to feel something. But by now it's become more of an addiction, needing it when I start to lose focus."
I nod, averting my gaze to my feet and lean my head onto his shoulder.
"I don't blame you. There were times in my life I did similar things. I have some of them too, but usually I was careful not to leave noticeable scars, but still."
We remain silent for a while, until Simon offers me the bottle of bourbon while lighting a cig.
I thank him and take a swig before I hand it back to him, doing the same.
"Seems like we're both similarly messed up.", he breaks the silence.
"Seems like it."

It's already midnight when we return back to base, Johnny already being in his room.
That night, Ghost and I hold each other tight as we lay in his bed. We don't kiss or make out, nor do we say much. We just hold each other, feeling the comfort of each others arms as we drift asleep.