Unseen | Ghost x Soap

Chapter 57: Thoughts

Ghost's POV:

The first rays of dawn pierced through the thin curtains of my room, casting a pale, haunting light over the disheveled bed. I stirred, the remnants of sleep clinging to me like a stubborn fog. The silence of the room was deafening, amplifying the echoes of last night's memories that played on a loop in my mind. Every touch, every sound, every gasp of breath haunted me with relentless vividness.

I closed my eyes, trying to push the memories away, but they surged back with a force that left me breathless. I remembered the way Johnny's body had felt on  mine, the warmth, the softness, the sheer intensity of it all.

The sounds he made, the way he whimpered and gasped, were seared into my memory. It was impossible to escape.

With a sigh, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. My body felt heavy, every movement a reminder of the previous night. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep and the oppressive weight of my thoughts.

As I pulled on my pants, I couldn't help but remember how I had stripped Johnny's off. The memory was so vivid it felt as though I was experiencing it all over again-the way my fingers had fumbled with his buttons, the way his skin had felt under my touch. I buttoned my shirt with mechanical precision, each button a stark contrast to the clumsy, hurried way I had undressed him.

I tried to push the thoughts away as I laced up my boots, but they persisted, insistent and unrelenting. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger's—a man haunted by the ghost of his own actions. I splashed water on my tace, hoping the cold shock would help clear my mind, but it did little to dispel the fog.

The walk to the mess hall was a blur, my mind too preoccupied to notice the familiar sights and sounds around me.

By the time I reached the entrance, I felt like I was moving through molasses, each step an effort. Johnny was already there, sitting at our usual spot, his eyes downcast and his face a mask of controlled composure.

I sat down next to him, our shoulders brushing. The simple touch sent a jolt through me, and I had to force myself to focus on the conversation around us. The team was in good spirits despite the tension, their laughter and jokes a welcome distraction.

"Pass the salt," Soap said, his voice casual.
I handed it to him, our fingers brushing.

"You still need to work on your aim, Johnny," I teased, trying to keep my tone light.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied with a grin.
"Maybe I'll just start throwing the salt shaker at the target instead."

We continued to tease each other, the camaraderie helping to ease the tension. But underneath it all, the memory of last night simmered, a constant presence in the back of my mind. I leaned closer to Soap, my voice low so only he could hear.

"I can't stop thinking about how you sounded last night," I whispered, my words laced with a deliberate edge.

Soap's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He shifted uncomfortably, clearly flustered. "Ghost... not here," he muttered, trying to change the subject.

I smirked, enjoying the reaction I had elicited. "Just saying," I said casually, leaning back in my chair. Soap shot me a look that was both exasperated and amused, but he didn't push it further.

After breakfast, we headed to training. The day was filled with drills and exercises, each designed to hone our skills and prepare us for the mission. But despite the physical demands, my mind kept drifting back to Soap. Every glance, every touch, felt charged with the memory of last night.

During one particularly intense drill, Soap and I found ourselves paired up. The proximity, the way our bodies moved together, brought back the sensations I had tried to push away. Our eyes met frequently, the tension between us palpable. It was as if the world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in our own bubble of unspoken emotions.

At one point, I found myself standing close to him, our breaths mingling. The urge to reach out, to touch him, was almost overwhelming. But we were surrounded by our teammates, the reality of our situation keeping us in check.

We didn't talk about last night, the unspoken agreement to leave it in the past. But the tension was there, a silent current that ran between us, charging every interaction with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

As the day wore on, the weight of the upcoming mission settled heavily on my shoulders. But amidst the anxiety and the preparation, the memory of last night lingered, a reminder of the connection we had forged in the dark. It was a distraction, but also a source of strength, something that anchored me as we faced the uncertain days ahead.