"Stop worryin' so much."
Soap had stayed with you almost every night since the men had left on their mission. It was a small agreement he had with Ghost, to check up on you and keep you busy for him. Soap did his best to occupy you with games, movies, anything you liked doing to keep your mind off of Ghost.
It was working for a little while. He had you smiling. Soap ran with you, most the time in ended up in some sort of competitive racing. The winner took the others dessert at dinner time.
You were grateful for this, truly.
Your mind betrayed you, replaying the morning he left over and over again. You sat there, remembering how his hand grazed yours. The feel of his calloused hands as they brushed your skin in the darkened room.
What would be be doing right now? Was he also thinking of you?
Did he miss you?
You brought your knees to your chest and hugged them there, resting your chin on one knee. A shaky sigh escaped your lips.
The base felt far quieter than it normally was without the Task Force occupying it. Sure there were other people fluttering around, chatting and going on about their lives here but, they didn't compare to your team.
TF141 was home, those boys were your home.
"What's going on in that head o' yours, Y/N?"
Soap occupied the seat on the sofa right next to you. His eyes stayed glued to the screen, though his focus remained now on you.
Your eyes, closed and imagining the worst possible scenario, fluttered open to look over at him.
"What if they don't come back?"
Now, while Ghost might be used to you and your morbid thinking, Soap was not. He liked to remain positive. A glass half full kind of guy. But this wasn't a glass full of water. This was your guys team, people you both care for and spend a lot of time with.
You didn't want to sit and think about this. It was your brain's own doing. You couldn't stop it even if you wanted to. (And you did want to, so badly.)
It was all you could think about. It plagued your mind like some sort of virus; seeping in and spreading to the depths of you, taking control.
Soap had a feeling you weren't talking about all the members. His gut told him you meant Ghost, your Lt.
He let out a chuckle. His hand found your leg and tapped it reassuringly.
"They are a tough little bunch, you know. Don't go fussin' over them like that all the time. Plus, you got that jacket of his, don't you?"
Fuck.
You forgot you were wearing Ghost's jacket right now.
Truthfully, you hadn't taken it off since he left. You wore the thing everywhere like it was your own personal safety blanket with sleeves. His scent on it was fading and it made you want to cry.
Soap watched as you stiffened in your seat, the realization of his smell leaving hit you hard.
He sighed, looking back at the screen lazily.
If this were anyone else, he would tell them to suck it up and move on. That this was just part of the job and there was always a risk of losing the people you work with. It was a risky thing to get so attached without remembering any of them could die tomorrow.
But, it was you.
You weren't just anyone else.
You were a person who captured the hearts of the entire team. They all had a soft spot for you and cared deeply for you.
"You know.. normally, Simon doesn't keep his bedroom door locked." Soap spoke so casually, dropping the hint to you. He smirked when your head perked up ever so slightly. "And, I think I remember it being the room next to yours, right? So naturally, I was thinking; Maybe you should go to his chambers and make sure some bastard new recruits didn't sneak off in there and go through his things."
You get the hint almost immediately. It was hard to keep things from him. It didn't help that Soap was doing his best at playing match maker with you two. He knew Ghost would see his shit moved around. It wouldn't take long for him to piece together just who it was and why.
You squeezed his hand as you stood up. "Thank you, Johnny."
He nodded with a smug smile at you and watched as you quickly left the common room.
You walked through the halls silently with a newfound purpose.
Like Soap had said, the door was unlocked.
You hesitated for a moment, your hand on the doorknob. You had doubts about this. This was a place Lt had usually never let anyone else in. You had only seen people stand at the doorway, never to enter the sanctuary that is Simon Riley's bedroom.
This was a secret though. He wouldn't find out you slipped in just once and took something. You'd make sure of it, like a stealthy mouse.
His room was cleaner than you expected it to be. His cologne filled the air as you stepped inside and closed the wooden door behind you. It smelled like laundry and pine and a hint of vanilla.
Your eyes scanned the room, looking at each thing. Every bedroom was the same; a dresser, small closet, a nightstand, a desk, and a double bed. It was clear Ghost moved things around from the original layout. His bed was shoved into the corner and his desk was by the window.
Your eyes found letters that scattered along his desk. They were addressed to people you didn't know. For the sake of your feelings, you didn't care to open them.
Timid hands opened the top drawer of the dresser. His shirts folded neatly, you ran your fingers over them and smiled. You decided to take the top one, a plain black shirt with nothing on it.
It was more than perfect.
Going back to your room, you quickly changed into it and some comfortable bottoms and settled down in your bed.
His smell embraced you as you laid down. It was almost like he was there, hovering over you only inches apart.
Your mind began to wander selfishly so.
If he were here, would he kiss you? Would his hand touch you in the way your hand is doing right now?
You pressed your knees together, letting out a soft breath as you whispered out his name, "Simon."
Maybe he would be gentle with you, his lips grazing over your skin and kissing every single inch of you. Maybe he would tell you how beautiful you looked underneath him. His hands wouldn't leave your body. You wanted his fingers where yours were right now.
Your back arched at the thought of it.
Ghost plagued your mind. His voice replayed in your head over and over again. You imagined him standing over you, slowly stroking himself as he talked you through your orgasm.
He would probably whisper how good you did and clean you up with his tongue. Maybe after he would hold you, letting you fall asleep in his arms.
Maybe, just maybe, when he got back, you would tell him how you felt.
