Eyes on Me| Ghost x Reader

3. Sympathy

I stroll back into the mess hall, expecting to find Torres, but he's nowhere in sight. It's odd; there's still a good fifteen minutes left of lunch. Curiosity piqued, I follow the sound of booming shouts echoing from the courtyard. Jogging over, I weave through the gathering crowd to discover Torres in the midst of a fight with another soldier, who appears genuinely terrified.

"Torres, ease up!" I call out, striding toward them. He glances up briefly but ignores my plea, tightening his grip on the soldier's neck. Panic begins to bubble up inside me. "Torres, enough! Let him go!" I shout, closing the distance between us.

With a swift decision, I take matters into my own hands. Grabbing Torres firmly, I pry his arms away, forcing him to release his hold. As he staggers back, I give him a hard shove, and he tumbles to the ground.

Turning my attention to the injured soldier, I kneel beside him, concern etched on my face. "You alright, buddy?" I inquire, examining his bloodied visage.

"I'm... I'm good," he replies between labored breaths, his gaze fixed skyward.

I spin around to face Torres, still sprawled on the ground. "What the fuck are you doing?" I ask, more puzzled than angry. This whole situation just blindsided me. Before Torres can reply, Ghost barges into the scene, glaring at the chaos. He shoots a look at me, then at Torres, and lets out an exasperated sigh. 

"Why the fuck are you all still hanging around here?" he snaps at the onlookers, sending them scurrying back to their tasks. He then turns his attention back to Torres, gripping him by the vest and hoisting him up effortlessly. "And you," he growls, "what's your problem?" Torres just flashes a grin, straightening his uniform. 

"Just wanted a bit of excitement, Lieutenant," he says cheerily. "Next time you're itching for a brawl, pick on someone who deserves it, you moron," Ghost fires back, his patience clearly wearing thin. Torres's smile falters, and he nods sheepishly. Ghost releases him and turns to me. "See? Exactly what I was talking about," he snaps before striding away.

I glance over at Torres, shaking my head in disbelief. "What the hell?" I jest, giving him a playful shove. "All for fun? "He dusts off his uniform, a hint of defiance in his eyes. "The guy said some shit about you. I couldn't just let it slide," he mutters, meeting my gaze.

Torres actually fought someone for talking shit about me. It takes all my willpower not to break into a grin. He looks at me intensely, then reaches out to pull me closer by the waist. I go along with it, wrapping my arms around his neck as he smirks at me.

"Does your charming knight deserve a kiss?" he teases, inching his face closer to mine. I don't hesitate for a moment, closing the distance between us and pressing my lips against his softly. Fireworks seem to explode in the air, and I lose myself in the warmth of the kiss. 

He effortlessly takes the lead in the kiss, drawing me in closer with each lingering touch of his lips. My fingers tangle in his hair, grasping it before releasing, caught up in the intoxicating moment. His hands explore my back, and a soft moan escapes me, earning a chuckle from him.

When his hands wander to my ass, I instinctively pull back, teasing him, "Nice try, Torres. It'll take more than a little charm to get me to sleep with you," I joke, leaving my hands planted firmly on his chest. He chuckles, his eyes locking with mine, filled with desire. We linger in each other's embrace for a moment before I reluctantly pull away. 

"I've got work to do," I sigh, "I need to focus. ""Let me come with you," he teases, "my office is just a stone's throw away. my desk is big and sturdy enough to—" he starts, but I cut him off with a laugh."No distractions," I insist, "You hang out with your friends, and I'll catch up with you later.

"He nods, pressing a final kiss to my hand before I begin to make my way to a table overlooking the training field, where I can catch the sunset. Lost in my work, I'm snapped back to reality as the chill of dusk sets in, signaling the approaching sunset. Closing my book, I shift my focus to the descending sun, allowing its beauty to captivate my senses.

I make it a point to catch as many sunsets as I can. There's something about that time of day that's just so comforting—like it's the perfect moment to unwind and reflect. So, there I am, focusing on my breathing, trying to sink into that peaceful, meditative state, when I hear a throat clear nearby. I whip around, thinking it might be Torres.

Instead, it's Ghost, standing right behind me, looking straight at me. His usual tough exterior seems to soften, just a hint of emotion creeping in.

I'm taken aback. He's not yelling or insulting me. "Sorry," he begins, "I usually come here when I need to think."I nod, surprised, and offer, "Did you want to sit down?"He nods back, taking a seat a bit away on the picnic table. We don't jump into conversation, and I go back to soaking in the view, feeling strangely at ease, despite our usual tension.

As we sit in silence, soaking in the tranquil scene of the sun bidding farewell to the day, Ghost breaks the quiet with a cleared throat. "Today marks seven years since my brother passed away," he begins, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions. I glance at him, expecting more words to follow, but they don't. Ghost isn't one to delve into his feelings easily.

"I'm so sorry," I offer, sensing his struggle to articulate his thoughts. He nods, searching for the right words, but I interrupt his silence. "What was his name?" I inquire gently, turning to face him. "Gabe," he replies, a mix of fondness and pain in his voice. "He was just fifteen, a bit of a troublemaker, but he was my brother. Planned to enlist at sixteen, like I did, but... he never got the chance. "I nod, feeling a pang of sympathy for Ghost. 

"How did he pass?" I ask softly, noticing his shoulders ease a bit. "He was walking home from school one night, got caught up in some gang trouble. Mistaken identity," Ghost recounts, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I can't shake the thought, even after seven years, that maybe I could've been there to save him." 

"It wasn't your fault," I reassure him, my gaze meeting his. "There's darkness out there, Ghost. Sometimes it swallows up even the brightest lights. "He doesn't meet my eyes, his focus fixed on the fading sun. We lapse into silence, two souls grappling with the weight of loss and guilt. As darkness fully envelops the sky, I tentatively offer, "Do you need a hug?"

His reaction is unexpected, a sharp retort slicing through the air. "Don't be ridiculous, Y/N," he snaps, his irritation palpable. Confusion clouds my expression. "I was just trying to help," I murmur, hurt flickering in my eyes. With an exasperated sigh, Ghost rises abruptly. "I shouldn't have come up here," he mutters, storming off into the night, leaving me bewildered in his wake.

What the fuck just happened?