Anchor

The infirmary was too quiet. Ghost hated hospitals. Hated the beeping, the sterile smell, the way everything felt too white, too clean, like it was trying to cover the mess underneath.

He sat in the corner, arms crossed, legs wide, elbows on knees, watching her sleep like he expected her to vanish.

She'd passed out cold in the woods. Barely breathing.

Stupid girl.

He'd called it in, carried her all the way back like she weighed nothing. She was nothing-just skin and bone and the kind of soul that cracked too easy.

And now here she was. Bandaged again. Hooked up to fluids. Pale as the sheets tucked around her. Her curls were a wild halo around her face, lashes fluttering even in sleep, like she couldn't even rest without a fight.

He hadn't left her side.

He hadn't spoken to anyone, either.

They all knew better than to ask.

The nurse had given him a look-like she saw something in him he wasn't ready to face. He didn't care. Let them look. Let them wonder.

He wasn't leaving.

Not until she opened her eyes.

Not until he could make sure-really make sure-she was still here.

Because if she wasn't-

He didn't think about that.

---

Nora stirred sometime past midnight.

A small sound escaped her lips-pain or confusion, he couldn't tell. Her body tensed, and her eyes opened slow, bleary.

And the first thing she did was flinch when she saw him.

His jaw clenched.

"Relax," he muttered. "You're not in the woods anymore."

She turned her face away.

Didn't say anything.

Didn't need to.

He could feel the weight of everything she wasn't saying. It was thick in the air, pressing against his ribs.

"Do you have a death wish?" he snapped suddenly, standing up. "Is that what this is? You wanna get yourself killed because I don't treat you like a goddamn princess?"

Her eyes widened. Just slightly.

"You think running off half-dead, into the woods, is gonna make me what? Chase you? Feel sorry for you? Nora-fuck's sake-what's it gonna take to get it through your head? You don't do shit like that. You don't."

Her lips trembled. But she didn't cry.

She never cried in front of him.

"I just wanted to see you," she whispered.

Ghost's hands clenched into fists.

"You saw me. Now what?"

That made her blink. Look away.

She looked so small. So tired.

"I didn't think you cared," she said after a moment. "You didn't come. You didn't even ask."

"I did," he growled. "I called every damn day. You think I wasn't watching? Think I didn't make sure you were still breathing? I just-" He stopped, breathing hard.

"I couldn't be here," he said, quieter now. "Not without... doing something I'd regret."

That made her look at him. And it hurt. Because he saw the hope in her eyes again. That stupid, soft hope she always held onto when it came to him. Even after everything.

"Regret what?" she asked.

"Everything."

It landed like a blow. Her face fell. She shrank into herself again, pulling the blanket tighter.

"I'm sorry," she said, like she always did.

And he hated her for that. Hated how easily she apologized for being broken. For feeling too much. For loving him when he gave her nothing back.

"I don't want your fucking apologies, Nora," he said, stepping closer. "I want you alive."

"I'm trying," she whispered. "But it hurts, Ghost. Being invisible hurts."

He stared at her.

"You're not invisible to me."

She looked up. Fast. Hope again. Too much of it.

"But that doesn't mean I can give you more," he added, voice hard. "This thing-it doesn't go past what it is."

She nodded, slow. She didn't believe it. Not really. But she'd pretend.

"Okay."

He hated how soft she sounded. Like she was folding herself away again. Like she was shrinking just to survive.

"I'll keep chasing you," he said suddenly.

Her eyes snapped to his.

"You run off like that again, I'll find you. Drag you back kicking and screaming if I have to."

"Why?" she breathed.

"Because as long as you're in my sight, I can live with it," he said. "I can live with hurting you. I can't live with losing you."

She didn't know what to say.

So she just nodded.

And turned her face away as a single tear slipped down her cheek.

He sat down again.

Didn't touch her.

Didn't speak.

Just watched. Silent. Guarding.

Because if he couldn't love her the way she needed, then he'd protect her the only way he could:

With control.

With force.

With the walls he refused to lower-even if it meant she'd never stop bleeding beneath them.

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What do you think of this chapter?
This is so gooood..
He's gonna regret everything so much I loveee the angst and everything so much.