The Medic || Ghost [Simon Riley] Story.

Wait Out

Ghost

Every breath I take catches in my throat. Such a delicate kiss, so meaningless to many. Not to me.
Desperately I want to tell her that we aren't pushing her away because we don't value her or consider her as part of our team. It's quite the opposite. She was put in this position by a small faction of the very people we are fighting against. She is the spanner in our works. Unsuspecting, beautiful. One wrong move will fuck this all up.

She is the wrong move.

Nash pulls away from my lips, and I have never felt colder. My gaze settles on the flush of her cheeks. I'm the cause of that. The glow of happiness, it ignites me with a furious beating heart, and something unusual is happening in my gut.

"You can trust me." Her tone cuts with desperation and finality.

Oh baby, I know I can.

I feel the tension leak from my shoulders, "That's never been a doubt in my mind."

She releases a sharp sigh, "This is frustrating."

I know. It really fucking is, in more ways than one.

I don't say anything, she drops my gaze and looks at her feet instead.

"It's weird as well." Slowly she moves her hands and gaze back to my mouth, lingering her stare on my lips for a second; I note the glint in her eye and the lift of her lips before she gives in, pulling the mask back down to cover me.

"It's pretty fucked up." I say sternly. We shouldn't want each other this much, this soon. It's unnatural.

Nash covers her face with her hands, "So," she muffles before pulling them away in order be heard clearer, "you all just go off on this top secret mission with fucking slick back forehead out there and I what...wait to identify your corpses?"

Not exactly but at the same time in a nutshell.

"You won't be identifying any of us. We'll be back."

Nash tosses me an exasperated look, her eyes shooting daggers, "I'm great at what I do—"

"I've heard." I counter, she can't see it but I'm arching my brow.

"Fuck you, you cocky son of a bitch." She spits at me trying to haul herself away. Reaching around I anchor my hand at the small of her back and force her against me.

"Simon," she huffs out, her arms folding across her chest in angst, but she doesn't pull away this time .

The way she said my name, fuck. I'm weak.

"If something goes wrong with any of you, and statistically that could happen. I am there to assist. I could be the difference between life and death." She's right, 100 hundred percent.

This is an off the books retaliation mission that has absolutely nothing to do with her. We won't risk her. I won't.

"You can make that difference by waiting for us at the exfil." Her face drops, she really thought I'd give in. I can see her pouting like a child. It sparks an ache in my chest.

Arms flopping by her sides she sighs, flashing her evergreens upwards at me. Her mouth moves as she prepares to say something. Quickly to stop her, I tilt my head and pull up the bottom of my mask once more, capturing her soft pouty lips with mine. A soft moan vibrates against me, I drink it in. Pushing my tongue to part her lips and explore her mouth. She doesn't fight me, she relents, her hand caressing mine as it holds up the fabric of my mask. She roams underneath, gently brushing her fingertips across the peaks of my cheeks, flowing over my ears and into my hair where she lightly runs her fingers through my scalp.