Red Lake | Ghost & König [II]

chapter 1

The water surrounded you, and you were submerged in it.

You sunk into the bath water, relishing in the sensation of the warm water caressing your skin, enjoying the feeling of your hair floating silkily around you. Your body was hot, and you felt clean and satisfied.

You could hear beneath the water as the bathroom door opened, a voice calling your name.

You gasped, coming out of the water like a wet dog, your hair falling in soaked mats over your face. You covered your breasts, your face flushing. The scent of the bath salts you had used filled your nostrils in a wave of fresh cool air. Candles flickered on the ottoman, filling the room with a gentle orange glow.

"Oh," said Kilgore, one hand on the doorknob, peeking into the bathroom. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't have just barged in like this." His face was pink.

You had been living with Kilgore and Simon in a small apartment Germany for a while now, so you had seen them both in all sorts of positions and states, but you still got flustered when they saw you indecent. It's like that childlike infatuation with them never ceased.

"It's fine," you muttered, still covering yourself the best you could as you switched the knob on the bath, allowing it to drain. You reached over the tub and grabbed your fluffy white towel, standing and wrapping it swiftly over your naked body, the water sloshing in the tub.

"Uhm," Kilgore said, looking to the side. You raised your brows at him, urging him to explain why he had to barge in on you in your blissful solitude.

"Hm?" you pressed.

"I just came to tell you breakfast was ready," said Kilgore bashfully. "Ghost made it this time. Prepare your taste buds." He chuckled awkwardly.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, drying yourself with the towel and then securing it tightly around yourself. "You know, chéri, you don't have to keep calling him that." You raised your arms tangling your hands in your air, trying to loosen some of the clumps. "It's been over a year since all that shit happened. You'd think by now your head would be out of the war space."

Kilgore straightened, itching his ear. "Yeah, yeah, I know, [Y/N], but..." He trailed off, looking away.

You approached him, laying a kind hand on his shoulder. He still would not look up, embarrassed by his slip-up. You brought your slender hand to his face, pushing his head gently towards you. You looked at him softly. "Kilgore..."

He stared up at you with his big Bambi eyes, green orbs piercing through your very being. Your breath hitched. You had been in a sort of unspoken romantic relationship with him and Simon for a while now, and they still never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

"I..." he hesitated. "I still struggle."

Kilgore had struggled with episodes of post-traumatic stress disorder since settling down here in Germany. He had never shown many symptoms before, but the moment he retired to a more quiet life, he started to have episodes where he would wake up in the middle of the night sweating and dry heaving, consumed with the onslaught of a panic attack.

"I know..." you whispered, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I'm here. Simon is here. We'll take care of you. You'll..." you looked to the side, a little unsure. "You'll get over it..."

Kilgore nodded, accustomed to your bluntness.

You slid your hand off your face, allowing it to fall on his bicep and giving it a squeeze. "Let's eat. I'm going to change first and meet you in there. That okay?"

He smiled softly and nodded, leaning forward and planting a small kiss on your temple. Your heart thrummed at the action, and you watched him turn on his heel and exit the bathroom, heading towards the kitchen.