The Ghost of Task Force 141 [Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader]

Undressing Wounds

"Huh?", you paused shortly before the bed, "Oh, one guy got me in the nose pretty bad. I had completely forgotten about it."

"Christ, I can tell.", Soap replied raising his eyebrow and taking another sip of the dark liquid in the cup. 

Ghost piped up, "Bout time we leave, ain't it?"

The drive back was short, mainly just filled with Ghost and Soap bickering. The sky outside was still dark, as the winter months were coming in. The road was riddled with puddles, and you could still tell that some dark clouds still hung threateningly overhead. 

Once back to the base, you immediately headed to your quarters, gear in hand, and eager to change out of your dirty clothes. 

The sky was still dark, as a few sprinkles of rain dropped to the ground, making you walk even faster. You'd been caught in the rain way too much lately. 

As soon as you were inside you clicked on the light switch and put up your gear in your closet.  You didn't hesitate to change out of your clothes and into basic military loungewear. 

You looked around your room, tidy as per usual. Before military service it was never like this, though you were quickly put in routine. You smiled a bit, remembering your training years. 

A knock brought you out of your thoughts, as you headed over to the door and opened it. 

It creaked open, revealing Ghost. 

He was also dressed in basic loungewear; his head was covered in black fabric with the skull covering the majority of his face. The bottom where the jaw was supposed to be, was gone and was replaced with gray striped fabric. The covering fell down to his neck and was tucked into his skin-tight black shirt. The sleeves ended at his elbows, showing the tattoo sleeve on his left forearm. He still wore a basic utility belt, complete with dark green cargo pants. His hands were decked with skeleton gloves, complete with padding on the undersides and a strap to keep them fit to his wrists. 

His eyes surrounded by black pigment stared at you, taking in your figure. 

"May I come in?", his voice was low, and his expression didn't show any alarm. What could this be about?

You nodded and stepped aside. 

His boots thumped across the flooring as he walked inside. You shut the door once he was inside and turned to face him. 

"So, what brings you to my quarters?", you joke, as you watch his eyes to try and label his expression. 

"You."

A chill went down your spine, as your cheeks suddenly felt like they were on fire. You quickly regained your composure. Surely, he meant it had something to do with work. 

"Me?", you ask, shifting on your feet a bit. 

Without hesitation he responds, "Yes."

He takes a step closer, and you stand your ground, slightly tempted to take a step back. 

You stare up at him, having to adjust your head to meet his gaze. He really was much too tall. 

You quirk a brow, "Really?". He never was a man of many words. 

He nods, the fabric draping down from his chin bobbing with him. 

Ghost was so close you could smell his cologne, a natural forest scent, like pine, you couldn't really put your finger on it. 

His arm raised as he reached behind you, leaning slightly closer, as his head bent down to maintain eye contact. He flicked the light switch off, and your eyes widened to accommodate the light change.