Ghost Shorts | Fem!Reader

MINI | A GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE

You'd never taken the game this far. Maybe it was too far.

Fractured light scattering from the disco ball which hung centre of the room, the deep bass rumbling your chest. Eyes closed, a bead of sweat rolling down your back. Time between missions with nothing to do, led you both down this dangerous path. Strange hands. Stolen glances. Anger. Irritation. Ownership. Frustration.

Your fingers twirling up in your hair as unknown hands trailed across your exposed skin in the little daring dress that taunted him. You could feel those brown eyes burning holes all over your body. Those muscles rippling beneath his own skin as he held in every emotion which drove his mind to insanity. He couldn't do anything to stop it. He couldn't touch you. He couldn't open his mouth to tell you.

Lieutenant Simon Riley, rendered helpless. And he couldn't stand it.

That was the game; he could play too.

Another drink handed to you. Fingertips dug flat against the ice cool glass in hand as condensation dripped off your palm when you saw him. And her. His hand brushing back a loose strand of hair, a finger running down her spine, tilting her chin back, leaning in, his lips on her neck. You stopped dancing. You stopped hearing.

Eye contact over her shoulder.

You dove further into the crowd, all the sounds exploding in your ears again. Hypnotic. Overwhelming. Loud. Close. There was that stranger—you reached for them, you could still win the game.

Then a strong tattooed arm wrapped itself around your waist pulling you back, pulling you into them. You recognised the height, the way your head went back into their chest, the way their hand curled your ribs securely. His voice, it was his voice growling in your ear.

"Enough."