I'm just better. || Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

We were silent as I cleaned the wounds that scarred his back, making sure to leave them fresh and raw, the rough look to them seeming they would leave bad scars. I gave him the rags I was using, to hold for the moment while I grabbed some band-aid pads for a few of the bigger, but not so deep ones, others being covered in band-aids to various sizes, leaving a few nastier ones to deal with. 

"Take your shirt off." I hum, sharply, waiting impatiently. He did so, without a second remark and I nodded to myself.

"I'm gonna need to stitch 3 of them." 

"Be my guest. I trust you." He replied. And with that, I got to work, threading the curved needle and puncturing the torn up, raw skin around the deeper injury. He didn't even flinch, not a response from his body either. He accepted what would come and he accepted that it would be from me. More than I would be able to do so casually. 

Moments passed until I was done.

"How'd it all happen?" I ask, dabbing at some scratches with the rag near the base of his neck and some on his shoulders. His body let in a breathe, almost seeming to remember he was here, with lungs.

"Well. When you left, it all sort of happened quickly. There was something that caught my eyes the second you darted in your room and I stopped. It sounded way to quiet and there was no commotion in the dining room. And then 4 or 5 soldiers tried to jump at me, others pulling guns. I missed the bullets, but they kept getting in my way. So I got messy. Violent. Because despite all the other commotion around, I could hear the chaos in your room and your safety became my utmost top priority." He explained, pausing for a moment. "I saw red. I felt numbness and I had tunnel vision. You were at the end. You were my goal. And I always hit my goals."

I listened silently, nodding here and there. His words shot through my entire mind, lingering.

"That's... strange." I hum.

"To you, I suppose." He replied, tilting his head to the side for a little stretch.

I didn't know what else to say or how else to continue the conversation. So, I kept quiet. The rag dabbed a bit more onto his skin until I found it to be done a bit ago, just idly dazing off.

"Does it concern you?" He finally asked.

"Concern me how?" 

"That I can act that way."

"No. Because I am ultimately superior. Stronger. Tougher. I'm just-" There was a knock at the door that interrupted my egotistical speech. He got up, glancing over his shoulder at me before glancing through the peephole.

"Who is it?" He asked, his voice tone shifting to a more authoritive one. My brows furrowed as I caught my surprise between the change.

"Sooooap." The cheerful Scottish man bubbled out. 

Lord.

Ghost opened the door as he burst in the room.

"Hey! Okay, so, Price said-" As Soap began to ramble, Ghost moved around him after closing the door,  sitting on the bed right next to me. "that you both have a mission in 1 week, by this weekend." 

That caught Simon's attention.

"What? A week?" He blurted out, glancing to my arm, only now noticing how roughly fucked up the stitches were. His eyes narrowed and I saw him shoot me a look that said; 'I just did those.'

"She's not even barely healed." 

Soap shook his head.

"It doesn't matter, because its not a fighting mission, unless it goes sideways, which probably won't happen." He explained. "It's just an intel mission. There is a huge gala, packed full of our worlds most dangerous people. Some of which connected to Faolan. You know how that's great?? Because from what Price is planning, since we've got... let's just say 'invited', it could play out really well. Price wants you two to go there together as a date and while one of the other team members like Keegan sneak around and extract intel from the back to from swiping things from our targets." 

I glanced to Simon for a moment and we shared a look.

"Won't they notice the balaclava's?? If they are the more bigger people, it means you've probably dealt with them before, right?" I asked, scratching the back of my neck.

"That's right. That's why Price only wants the masked members; so they can go unmasked. It's the best option because they have no idea what some of you look like behind the mask." 

The sharp tension in the room was palpable, between how cheerful and excited Soap to how stone cold Simon had turned. It felt kinda awkward. But I couldn't get the thought of him unmasked out of my head. The now burning curiosity. 

Though, when Ghost's eyes quickly glanced towards me as if thinking, it snapped me out of my thoughts. I didn't look at him, either, almost pretending as if I didn't know he just did that.

"So!" The chirp of Johnny's voice sliced through the void of silence, sprouting kittens and flowers, "That means one thing, Sage. You, me, Ghost and Price get to go shopping. For a dress. For you!" 

He exclaimed happily, his hands clapping together, rocking back and fourth on his feet. 

"We leave tomorrow at noon. See ya!" 

And with that, the only warm presence had left the room, shutting the door behind him. My lips tightened and I swallowed a little too loudly.

God damn it.

Don't you hate that? When you are all awkward and tense and then you swallow and it sounds so stupid?? Yeah, that's what just happened.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating, before turning to face me. 

"May I fix your arm?" He asked, clearing his throat a bit.  

No.

"Sure." I said, quietly.

Why are you being pathetic right now? Letting some dodgey feelings get in your way??

As he sat next to me, the bed creaking under his weight.

MUSCLES. Stop.

He gently reached over, moving the bra and tank strap down a bit and sighed a bit through the mask. His eyes trailed to mine and they stopped there for a moment, his movements going still.  Though, he easily brushed it over by speaking, as if it was meant to pair together. What an awful excuse. 

"Scrub too hard or something?" He asked, lowly. I nodded, averting my gaze. "Mm."

"Is it still 'at the moment'?" I blurt out. My mouth snapped shut as my eyes widened.

SERIOUSLY??? SERIOUSLY? WHAT, STOP IT, STOP DUDE, STOP IT YOU HAVE A JOB TO DO, IN AND OUT, THAT'S IT. 

"What?" He asked, brows knitting together. I put my hands up quickly.

"Nothing, sorry." 

He pushed my hands down, slipping his hand around my jaw, some of his fingers grazing my neck while pulling my attention towards him. Goosebumps erupted under his de-gloved hold, the calloused pads of his fingers holding onto the soft skin of my face. I had completely froze, examining his eyes, the deep dark chocolate swirl drifting into the shadows around the edges of his iris's.

"What do you mean?" He repeated, the words firm and slipping off his tongue.