The Masks in Your Life (Ghost x Reader)

t e n

"Ghost?", you said feebly, your voice sounding like it was somebody else's.

Suddenly, a voice that you didn't expect to answer came from the bedroom and made you flinch, stopping you dead in your tracks.

"Honey? Oh god, is that you?"

Mike.

Shock and confusion distorting your face, you nearly jumped towards the bottom of the stairs. Yet, you hesitated to go up.

"Baby, please, is that you? This Simon guy is crazy!"

Your hand rested on the banister, maybe holding something familiar would ground you, maybe it would sort all your thoughts, worries and questions into neat little piles for you to dissect.

Clearly it didn't, the sheer unpredictability of the situation made your mind go haywire instead, your brain feeling like it was thrown into a blender.

"Please come upstairs", Mike whined now, a jarring sound in the otherwise silent house.

"Is he there?", you asked finally, the shaking in your own voice taking you by surprise.

You knew that he was close to crying from the sound of his affirmative answer, and finally you managed to put one foot in front of the other, up the stairs step by step.

Absentmindedly you pulled your phone out of your pocket because a rational part of your brain wanted to force you to call the police.

But your poor, little heart...

It wanted nothing to do with that thought, it wanted to believe that Ghost wouldn't hurt Mike, nor you, and that there would be an explanation for all of this.

Still, you clutched your phone as if its sole existence gave you security, gravity seeming to triple under your feet.

The way to the bedroom felt longer than usual, and you wished you didn't have to walk through the door, and maybe you didn't have to, after all nobody could stop you from running out of the house, taking Mike's car to drive away as far as you could.

Unfortunately, you gravely underestimated the grip Ghost had on you, firm and unwavering. And you let him have this influence on you, because deep down, you wanted him to.

So you found yourself standing in the doorframe, your wide eyes fixated on the scenery in front of you.

Mike sat next to the door, tied to the chair that usually stood by the desk, which was now taken up by Ghost's large frame. The latter was dressed in all black and seemed to blend into the shadows in the scarcely lit room.

He was so tall that he easily sat on top of the desk with one leg propped up, his thigh resting on the wooden surface. His weight was supported by his other leg standing on the floor, an empty duffle bag next to his heavy boot.

The way he spread his legs and how his strong arms were crossed in front of his chest distracted you for a second, before you allowed Mike's weak voice to pull you back into reality.

"Oh god, finally, you need to help me baby!"

Not the right time anyways to think about closing the distance between you and someone who, as of right now, looked like a violent intruder.

An intruder who had left your husband with a broken nose and bloodshot eyes, two thick zip ties cutting into each of his limbs. He looked at you, and it was almost like back then, his eyes soft and loving. Strangely, it stirred nothing in your heart.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the two men instead of returning Mike's gaze, before they settled on Ghost. Neither of you moved, you felt like being frozen in place, your shoulders tense.