Contagious || Ghost x Fem

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

You hesitated for a moment before breaking the silence. "Thank you for the clothes and, you know, saving my life," you said, your voice genuine. Ghost, in his skull balaclava, simply nodded, a subtle acknowledgment of your gratitude. When you continued, a heavier topic hung in the air. "I'm sorry about Roach and Yuri. I can't pretend to fully understand, but I know losing teammates is hard," you offered, empathy threading through your words. However, Ghost's response was a scoff, and his retort cut through the air. "What do you know?" he questioned, his tone laced with bitterness and skepticism.

You took a deep breath, trying to navigate the delicate conversation. "I know it's hard losing people. The memories, they bring both pain and anger," you responded, your voice carrying a mix of empathy and understanding. However, Ghost's reaction was far from what you expected. His tone escalated, growing louder as he lashed out. "You know nothing, Serpent. Stop trying to get me to like you, stop trying to relate to me. You don't know me, and you never will." His words echoed in the room, a harsh dismissal that left a palpable tension hanging between you.

You met Ghost's intense gaze as he seethed with bottled-up emotions. Tentatively, you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. The room seemed to hang in suspended silence, his breath caught, and then, "I'm sorry for your losses, Ghost. Take your time," you offered, your voice carrying a genuine sense of empathy. His piercing eyes softened for a moment, the armor around him momentarily giving way to vulnerability. However, as quickly as it appeared, his defenses snapped back into place. "Don't touch me again," he stated, his tone firm, and without another word, he walked away, leaving you with the weight of his unspoken pain.

As you descended the stairs, you caught the attention of everyone in the room, including Alejandro and Rodolfo. A warm smile formed on Alejandro's face, and he greeted you, "Hermana, it's good to see you up and walking around. How are you feeling?" With a playful glint in your eye, you responded in a jesting manner, "Tis but a scratch," accompanied by a light-hearted chuckle. Soap responded to your banter, "Hey, that's my line!"

You shot him a teasing grin, "Well, I've never heard you say it." The room was filled with a light atmosphere, a temporary reprieve from the tension. In a surprising turn of events, Keegan approached you with a soft look in his eyes. "Hey, Serpent," he greeted, and without much warning, he enveloped you in a hug. The unexpected embrace caught you off guard, and for a moment, the scent of cologne mixed with the lingering aroma of gunpowder surrounded you, evoking a complex blend of emotions.

Keegan's unexpected hug drew a curious look from you. "What's that about?" you inquired, and he simply shrugged, replying, "Felt like the right thing to do." As you took a seat on the couch, Gaz spoke up. "So, Serpent, I know you were just shot and all, but Price stocked up on ingredients, and if you wouldn't mind, can you whip something up?" Soap chimed in with a grin, "Yeah, Serpent, I'll be your assistant and everything." The proposition caught you off guard, but the idea of cooking was a welcomed distraction. With a playful smirk, you agreed, "Sure, why not?"

"What's on the menu, Chef Serpent?" Price inquired, taking a casual sip of coffee. You glanced around the room, assessing the team's culinary preferences. "Well, what are y'all feeling?" you asked, inviting suggestions. "Please tell me you make real Mexican food and not the white kind," Alejandro quipped, injecting a bit of humor into the conversation. You chuckled in response, "I'll see what I can do."

You gingerly rose from the couch, feeling the twinge of pain in your abdomen. Keegan extended a supportive hand, and you gratefully accepted the assistance. Together, you made your way to the kitchen, where the team eagerly awaited the culinary creations. As you scanned the available ingredients, the suggestion of flautas popped into your mind. "How about flautas?" you proposed, met with a quizzical response from Soap. "Flow huh?" Alejandro and Rodolfo laughed. "Flautas, you pendejo," Rodolfo interjected with a smirk, adding his approval to the idea.

As you set up the ingredients on the kitchen counter, Soap offered his assistance. His willingness to help was evident in the way he looked at you, genuine and ready to contribute. You nodded appreciatively and handed him a cutting board, assigning him the task of chopping tomatoes, jalapeños and cilantro. Working together, you and Soap swiftly fell into a rhythm, the kitchen becoming a space of collaboration. The tantalizing aroma of the ingredients filled the air as the team eagerly awaited the culinary masterpiece taking shape before them.

As you finished assembling the plates of delicious flautas, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you shared a fist bump with Soap. The enticing aroma wafted through the room, and you called out to the team that dinner was ready. The others eagerly expressed their hunger and complimented the smell, creating a lively atmosphere. However, as Ghost descended the stairs, silence filled the room. You couldn't help but hold your breath, aware of the strained dynamics. Soap, breaking the silence, offered Ghost some of the food. However, he declined with a curt "no" and proceeded to walk outside, leaving an awkward hush in his wake. The team exchanged glances, and you couldn't help but wonder what was going through Ghost's mind.

The team decided to sit on the couches to eat and put on a movie. "Esto esta delicioso, gracias!" Alejandro said and you smiled giving him a nod. "Soap I am not watching Cars 3 again," Gaz said rolling his eyes. "Fine! someone else put something on then."

"How about we watch something classic?" Price suggested, looking around for agreement. Gaz nodded, "Sure, something that won't put us to sleep." Price eventually settled on an old action movie, and the team dug into their flautas while the opening scenes played on the screen. The room was filled with the sounds of eating, occasional comments about the movie, and the clinking of plates. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the moment, the tension from earlier dissipating into a shared camaraderie.

As you sat down, a subtle glance in Ghost's direction revealed that he remained outside, choosing to distance himself from the group. The echoes of his earlier outburst lingered, a reminder that not everything had returned to normal. The movie played on, providing a brief escape from the chaos of their missions. Despite the movie's action-packed scenes, you couldn't help but feel a lingering heaviness in the air. Each bite of the flautas tasted both delicious and bittersweet. The team's banter and laughter provided a brief respite from the intensity of their usual missions, but Ghost's absence cast a shadow over the gathering.

As the movie progressed, you noticed Soap stealing glances at the empty spot on the couch. Alejandro and Rodolfo exchanged playful remarks in Spanish, adding a touch of humor to the atmosphere. Gaz, always the cynic, commented, "At least the food is better than the movies Soap picks." The team chuckled, lightening the mood. After the movie ended, the team dispersed, some heading to their rooms, while others lingered in the common area. You found yourself cleaning up the empty plates and leftover flautas, glancing toward the door where Ghost had disappeared.

You thought back on when you told Soap about killing with kindness and decided to warm up the leftover flautas and wrap them up before placing them on a plate. The dimly lit hallway felt eerily quiet as you approached Ghost's office. The air seemed to hang with a certain tension, and the fact that the door was unlocked struck you as peculiar. As you pushed the door open, it revealed a space that mirrored Ghost's enigmatic persona—neat, organized, and devoid of personal touches. The flickering light overhead added a subtle, eerie ambiance to the room. The office, utilitarian in its design, housed large file cabinets and drawers, each holding classified information and strategic plans. The walls were bare, offering no glimpse into Ghost's personal life or past.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of solitude as you stepped into the room. The absence of any personal effects made it clear that Ghost kept his professional life strictly separated from the personal. You placed the plate of warmed-up flautas on his desk, a small attempt to breach the stoic facade that surrounded him. The sterile environment contrasted sharply with the warmth of the wrapped flautas. You pondered whether Ghost would appreciate the gesture or dismiss it as inconsequential. As you left the office, the door closed behind you, and the hallway regained its quiet atmosphere, leaving you with a lingering curiosity about the man behind the mask.

1485 words