A Nurse and Their Ghost | Simon Riley "Ghost" x Reader

chapter 16

You can see a soft change in his demeanor as if your appreciation touched a chord somewhere within him. Ghost then slightly shifts, diverting his gaze away from you again, as if pulling back the brief curtain of openness between you.

The ensuing silence grants you a moment to contemplate the contrasting images of Ghost— the enigmatic lieutenant concealed behind a haunting skull mask, symbolizing his lethal efficiency and relentless dedication. His reputation precedes him as an ice-cold warrior with no room for sentimentality.

However, sitting beside him now, amidst the echo of your earlier conversation, you witness a facet of Ghost that's profoundly human. Your gaze involuntarily drifts to his mask, with a fleeting temptation to delve into the stories, the whispered legends that trail his identity. But you promptly steer your thoughts away, choosing to acknowledge the human beside you, not the mask or the myths.

Ghost's gaze intertwines with yours as you peer at his mask, possibly sensing the whirlpool of questions brewing within you. The silence enveloping you seems to deepen, with only the whisper of the wind sharing your companionship.

The tranquility of this silence seems to comfort Ghost, bringing an aura of peace around him. Your eyes lock with Ghost's for a fleeting moment, before he shifts his gaze, looking around, yet choosing to stay silent. The distraction of contemplating Ghost momentarily ebbed away the dread of what awaits you, but reality nudges again.

"Price wants me to head out on another mission in a few days," you initiate, shattering the silence that had settled between you. "As a field medic."

Your eyes search Ghost's for a reaction, any reaction. Your statement hangs heavily in the serene air, its implications unwinding a tapestry of risks and responsibilities that come with such a role. It's not merely about healing; it's about being thrust into the line of fire, where every split-second decision could be a matter of life and death. A realm that you had distanced yourself from years ago.

Initially, the notion of the last mission being a one-time ordeal had provided a semblance of comfort, yet now, that comfort seems to be slipping away into the abyss of uncertainty that lay ahead.

Ghost absorbs your words as you unravel the looming cloud of the upcoming mission and your reinstated role as a field medic. He discerns the burdened undertones of what the future holds for you through your words.

"But you're up for it," Ghost pronounces with a note of conviction. His tone carries a calming cadence, seemingly offering a dose of encouragement through the uncertain waves cascading through your thoughts.

His gaze is anchored on you as he attentively follows each word you utter. His presence seems to have an uncanny knack for offering the right words at the right moments, like a seasoned sailor knowing precisely when to steer through the tempest.

"I don't doubt my medical skills," you commence, your voice echoing a blend of confidence and clarity. But as swiftly as they came, memories from the dark corners of your past surge forth, causing your voice to quiver. 

"It's just... the field is unpredictable," you manage to voice out before trailing off, as if trying to cage the raw emotions threatening to cascade down your cheeks. 

Flashes of your previous team dance before your eyes—their faces, their laughter, the camaraderie forged through shared adversities. The fateful mission that morphed into a merciless storm, snatching them away, leaves a haunting echo within you, breeding a cocktail of fear, guilt, and sorrow that stirs the depths of your soul.

Ghost seems to traverse the emotional labyrinth alongside you as you recount the unpredictable nature of the field and the heavy chains of the past that you bear. He fathoms the whirlpool of pain and internal struggle swirling within you, his understanding mirrored through the comforting glance he extends toward you.