The smell of damn earth rolls on the strong sharp winds whipping around the safe house. The rain fell sideways with the winds, and a small puddle pools inside the wood floor. It was thick but the ground absorbed the ground. The rain itself was light and small.
Raindrops roll down the tree's leaves, collecting on the tips before a great droplet falls and splashes pathetically in the puddle gathered under the tree. It was cold and miserable, but it felt like home to me. The cold wind blew whispers of heroes on their songs before the door burst open with a great rush of wind. A group of wet men walked through. The smell of spices and rain clung to their clothes.
Charlie walks in his body heaving up and down, his dark shirt clinging to his biceps and torso. I could feel the heat rushing off him, his body falling up and down, exhaustion running in his veins. Like an adonis, his beauty is perfect, in a human way. He isn't perfect like a painting, or a poreless statue, he is perfect in the way the gods were perfect, flawed, and human. It feels like every man was modeled after him, or at least tried.
I let out a sigh, the winds carrying his scent to me.
He truly is my other half, as long as I have him to look back to, the world could not be more accessible.
His tired eyes scanned the room, I knew he was looking for me. Our eyes meet. It was like a solar eclipse, fate aligning. He walks over to me, arms moving up as if he were going for a hug before he remembers he's wet. He smiles at me and pushes his wet hair out of his face. Water rolls down his cheeks and down his chin, falling onto the ground. He was soak through. As he took off his vest, setting it off to dry. His clothes clung to him. His thin waist and abs show from his wet shirt.
Subconsciously I touch his chest, feeling his hot skin seeping its heat into the shirt, making it warm. He stares down at my hands, and his breath turns ragged. Soap smacked Gaz and pointed to us in the side of my vision. I dragged my finger down from his chest through the groove of his abs, "Why are you so... Hot? Like does all those chilis go to making you a furnace?" I question resting my full hand against his wet shirt.
I look up to see this dark haze in his eyes, an arousal look. He did not blink, he did not flee, he held my eyes and I felt exposed. I was studying me, reading me.
He smiles.
"It's the indigenous in me." He turns around smile drops, and I see the exhaustion in his gaze.
He's just tired.
"Were you worried?" I look over to see Gaz and Soap with stupid smiles.
"What's with those stupid smiles?" I ask, Gaz turns to Soap and Snickers.
"Nothing."
"You were worried," Gaz notes the smirk still there.
"I don't like knowing I could lose him," I tell them honestly. Gaz nods, that was good enough for him. It wasn't for Soap.
"What is he? your dad?" Soap jokes.
"He's the replacement for my biological brother, I mean that's why I called him Charlie." Soap's smile drops and he nods. He looked a little guilty.
I don't mean to make anyone feel guilty. I was simply telling him the truth.
I always felt back using Diego as a crutch, as a delusion that my brother was still alive, that there was someone out there who loved me. I know deep down it is guilt that keeps Diego to me, that keeps him loyal.
It was first pity; we were both selfish creatures that lost a piece of ourselves and knew the other had that piece. We molded each other to fit that hole. Then it was guilt, the guilt of my kidnapping, my experience, my burns, all my scars.
YOU ARE READING
Echoes|| König x Reader x Ghost
Adventure"If you have nothing nice to say don't say anything." "Why?" "Do you wanna die?" "mildly." Orginal story plot not following MW3 Started 2023-09-07 End 2024-02-20