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Ghost is a wonderful soldier—an efficient killer. Swift, stealthy, ruthless… But Simon? Simon is a good man. He’s funny, respectful, a shockingly good listener for someone so closed off, and you like him. He’s an amazing friend. You’re lucky to have a friend so wonderful in your life, especially in your lien of work.
He likes you too—a little too much, though. Aside from you being just so damn beautiful, you’re kind, charismatic, and you never fail to (even if you can’t see it) make him smile. But, he’s never planned on taking his affections any further than just friendship; he has never been one to make advances on people—and besides that, he doesn’t want to affect what he does have with you. He loves talking to you—or he did, until you stopped doing so.
You began to avoid him, starting small; you wouldn’t sit with him during dinner. Now, in your free time you never seem to visit him, you can’t even meet his gaze, and that beautiful smile is never on your face when he enters a room. It all makes him think he did something wrong, but he has no clue what that could possibly be…
So, today, he decides to at he’s going to confront you about it. He doesn’t make very many friends and he doesn’t want to lose one over something he isn’t even aware on how to fix.You’re in the medical bay when he finds you, idly tapping your pen against the paper.
“One second and I’ll be with you.” You say as Simon stares at you. He feels… almost nervous? That doesn’t typically happen to him.
“It’s me.” His gruff voice barely comes out. He can almost see you visibly tense, but it could also just be you sitting up in your chair. Your eyes are finally focused on him, but they aren’t the friendly ones that normally look back at him.
“What are you here for?” You ask.
“You know why I’m here.” Simon doesn’t hesitate to answer and he can see your frown worsen.
“I don’t read minds, Lieutenant.” A quick pang of both shock and hurt hit him; you never call him that—you never have. Even when you first came, you refused to call him it. It was one of the things he grew to appreciate with you…
“Lieutenant?” He asks, almost offended. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, Simon let his walls down for you—and here you were giving him the bricks to rebuild them. “See, this! This is what I’m talking about.” He says, walking further in the bay, closer to you. I had to have done something.
“What do you mean?” You ask him. You both know the truth, though; something is wrong, but only one of you knows what it is.
“Did I do something to you?” He asks and finally your eyes look away—he was right. What did I fuck up on?
“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You say quickly, but your leg is bouncing and he can tell obviously that isn’t true.
“Well, something is. You don’t talk to me anymore.” He steps closer once more and you frown at this. “You ignore me—you can’t even look me in the eyes.”
“Nothing is wrong. I’ve just busy and stressed, and I haven’t had nearly any free time.” You lie through your teeth. He’s a little offended you think he’ll believe that.
“Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?” He continues to probe, just wanting any confirmation—he’s starting to get aggravated.
“No!” You huff, eyes narrowing as you finally look back in his direction. “I’m fine, and I have work to do. You know that better than anyone.” Ghost stares at you as you turn in your chair. He isn’t sure what to say.
“Fine.” He says, chest hurting a little.
I hate this. All of this.
He turns around and leaves. No goodbye from you or him, just silence and a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
•• ━━━━━ •* * *• ━━━━━ ••
“Can ya’ stop whingin’ and tell me what happened?” Johnny asks, looking over to Ghost. He’s been silent, sitting in Johnny’s room for maybe the past hour?
“Nothin’s wrong.” He says, his already thick accent always got worse when he gets irritated.
“Aye right…” Johnny roles his eyes and Ghost frowns. “Come on, mate, tell me what’s wrong? We both know you’re talkin’ out your arse.” He asks, leaning on the back of his chair.
“I got into a disagreement with someone.” Ghost says, crossing his arms, mostly to hide how he can’t keep still.
Johnny just stares, he doesn’t really need to ask who. He knows it’s you. And Ghost knows he knows it’s you. You’re the only person who can get him worked up like this, make him really hurt—even if he won’t admit it. “Why?”
“They won’t talk to me. Not even just that—they called me ‘Lieutenant’.” He frowns more under his mask.
“Did you do something?” Johnny asks, he doesn’t know you super well, but he does know Simon.
“I would love to know.” Ghost groans, he’s getting himself upset again.
“I ‘unno then, just wait for them to say somethin’ to ya.” Ghost rolls his eyes. He doesn’t want to do that. He wants to talk to you now or never again. Either would work right now…
“Whatever.” He says as he stands up, earning a groan from Johnny.
“Bye, LT.” He waves, even if he gets nothing in return. He knew he probably wouldn’t.
Ghost shuts the door behind him and decides he just go outside for a moment—to clear his head, he says.
When he goes out of the back of the base, he sees you sitting on the bench smoking. He narrows his eyes; you were very aware of the rules, and you of any of the soldiers here should know not to smoke. That was one of the many things he really disliked. I hate that smell.
“Smoking on the base?” He says and immediately sees you jump, looking over to him.
“Shit—uh,” You stomp it out as he walks over. “Sorry, it won’t happen again.” You look away. You don’t leave, though.
As Ghost stares at you, he really takes in how disheveled you look. With a deep breath he sits down beside you, thinking you’ll immediately get up and leave, but you don’t. You both stare out the tree-line as the sun settles over them. He doesn’t say anything and knows that you sure as hell aren’t going to either.
“How long?” He asks and you shrug, you know what he means.
“Recently. I’m still on the first pack…” You frown and before he says anything you continue,“and yes, I know how bad they are. You don’t have to lecture me something I already know. You bury your face in your hands as you lean forward on your knees, letting out a shaky breath. He just nods. No point in arguing if you already know. “I’ve just been stressed.” He can hear the hesitance in your voice, even muffled by your hands.
“Are you going to tell me this time? Or are you just busy?” He asks, coming off a little more aggressive than he meant to be. You finally sit up, leaning back against the bench. He can see your eyes—no longer angry like they were but tired, defeated. He almost feels bad about aggressive, but he doesn’t apologize.
“I want to,” You start, “but I also don’t.” Ghost stares at you.
“Don’t be cryptic with me right now. You know that shit irritates me.” He says and your frown worsens. You looked focused but in distant kind of weird way? It’s hard to pinpoint the exact emotion you’re feeling just by your face. His stomach still twists seeing you, though; while he isn’t sure what feeling, he knows it isn’t positive.
“There is something wrong, but you didn’t do anything wrong.” Your voice was quiet, almost expecting, but he stayed quiet to. He was going to make you speak. “I… God, I don’t know what to do.” You laugh a little, but not out of any real humor to the situation.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Ghost says, and he almost lets himself reach out to your hand. But he doesn’t.
“You’re a great man, Simon; and you’re an even better friend.” You say, cheeks tinged pink from the chill of the wind. Only the wind.
“I love being your friend, and I care about you more than I should. You’re not supposed to get too attached to people in this line of work.” His eyes soften, he knows the feeling. “I don’t want to lose you… and if I get any closer it’ll just hurt more if you do actually get ripped from my life.”
“You won’t.” Ghost says, trying to lighten your mood. He knows it is possible, he can die one day—he will die one day. Probably in the field, during an unimportant mission. Like most other soldiers. But, it doesn’t hurt to hope.
“You don’t know that. Any wrong move, any fuck up could to my heart shattering into millions of pieces.” He tries not to think too deeply into that. Maybe he should, but he was never really good at reading people; the ones he liked, at least.
“I believed that for a long time.” With a long breath, Simon speaks. “It’s not fun, being alone. I owe Johnny for pushing me out of my comfort zone because if he hadn’t, we wouldn’t be friends.” He says, hands folded over each other. He wasn’t really good at this whole ‘talk about your feelings’ kind of thing.
“I don’t just tolerate you, I like you a lot.” He says and you avoid his gaze. “I like being friends.” He quickly adds after. Damn it. Why can’t I just admit it?
You hesitate but smile, “I like being friends with you, too.” Your voice is still quiet but you look more sure of yourself now. “I like you in general, though. You’re a great friend; I’ve said that already.”
Don’t give me false hope. Please god…
Simon feels nervous for once, truly anxious. He’s nearly never anxious—even when gunning down enemy soldiers or defusing a bomb or any other dangerous situation he’s typically thrown in. Now—though—here he is, chest tight and heart beating faster than he thought it could. He can feel a heat in his cheeks; he’s blushing. Ghost—the intimidating killer, violent soldier—dumbed down to a blushing, nervous man. He almost can’t believe it, believe that you do all of this him.
You take another deep breath, you may be more nervous than Simon is.
“I think I like everything about you. You’re strong, you’re intelligent, you have never give up on me, even when may should have… Your respectful and kind and tell the worst dad jokes.” You let out an amused huff, smiling more now. He can’t help but grin a little too.
“You’re really great, Simon.” He loves how his name rolls of your tongue; delicately, lovingly, almost as if it’s an honor to say. “I… I feel like it may be obvious already, but I admire you a lot. Not just as a Lieutenant, or soldier, or a friend—I mean, yeah, all of those are true, but…” You pause, and he can see the struggle in your eyes.
Please say it. Tell me what I want to hear.
“I want to be more than just your friend.” He feels a quick shot of happiness through his heart, but he doesn’t show it; at least he’s trying not to. “Romantically, I mean…. If that wasn’t, uhm, clear.”
“I’m scared, though.” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Honestly, Im fucki hm terrified. I’m terrified that you’ll like me back. I’m terrified that if we get any closer, then I’ll… lose you when I’m already in love.” You choke a little, trying to keep your breath steady. Simon takes the first of a few risks, and gently takes your hand in his. You look over to him and—damn—those eyes get to him.“I’m not the type to take unnecessary risks,” he can see your eyes flicker down to your interlocked hands. “but… I like you enough to take this risk.” His face is burning and it gets worse as you tighten your grip on his hand.
“I remember when I first came here, you really didn’t like me.” You smile, holding back a laugh. “I really liked you, though; I thought you were so cool.” Simon smiles.
“I am cool.” He says and you nod. “You’re cool sometimes too.” You grin at him and stares at your lips for only a small moment.
“I know,” You boast and Simon laughs a little. “I’m glad we can both admit that.” He stares at you for a second. Then at your hands. Then out by the trees. He’s kept this part of himself locked away for so long that it’s weird having it back open.
“Close your eyes for a second.” He says, looking over to you. His heart is beating so fast, despite how calm he feels. Is this how people normally feel?
You look at him, as if he’s crazy, “Pardon?”
“Just do it,” he huffs, still blushing under his mask. You listen to him and close your eyes. He stares at you for another moment before he smiles at you, gently bringing his hand to hold your face—his touch softer than he ever could have imagined it could ever be. His other hand moves up to the bottom of balaclava, pulling it up slowly, hesitantly.
He can tell you’re confused as your brows furrow. He doesn’t keep you waiting for an answer and tentatively presses a kiss to your cheek. Your eyes immediately open to look at him, balaclava now skewed up to reveal his lips and red cheeks. He quickly pulls back, for some reason you staring at him makes him feel all fuzzy. Embarrassed. He clears his throat and pulls his mask back down, keeping his eyes away from you.
After a moment, you laugh at him. It’s not a mean one, but it is teasing. You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, even if it’s through the mask.
“I’m willing to take the risk.” You say, leaning on his shoulder. Simon looks at you, heart swelling with an amount of admiration he didn’t think he could feel for a person.
“Me too.”