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~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 21: broken

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: peeking around the corner, ehrm hey i am kinda back? sorry for my very long radio silence, as a lil excuse i got an extra long chapter for you guys, i hope you're still interested in this story. and dont worry i'll finish it, updates will just take me longer but they'll come! just leave a comment if you wanne be add to the taglist to not miss an updte, well let me know what you think! lots of loves jules

CW/TW: fluff, longing, teasing, mentions of angst, trauma, nightmares, suicide, rape, enslavery, loss of loved ones, torture

wordcount: 6.6k

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It was still early when Simon woke from what appeared to be some sort of clicking noise. Usually his eyes would've snapped open, but something was different. This wasn't the usual situation he found himself in the morning. He felt utterly relaxed and secure. His sleepy eyes went through the area. Though upon closer inspection of the room, he couldn’t identify the source of the sound. The common room was empty, the sound of your steady breaths filtering into his ears. He didn't dare to look up, fearing that it’d be one of those damn dreams.

But it wasn't. Your hand was still placed flat on his back, the other was nearly trapped in between his gloved ones. Closing his eyes once again, he allowed himself some more time to enjoy the moment, his head rising and falling with your soft breaths. You were still fast asleep, the situation causing a smile to tug at the corner of his lips for a few seconds before his face fell back to its usual resting stoic manner. Reminding himself, he couldn’t stay like this, especially not in this place, that's why he slowly pushed himself up, trying not to wake you during the process.

Sitting at your feet, he tugged you back under the blanket, causing you to shift and grimace in discomfort before relaxing once more. The corner of his lips twitching upwards again at the sight. It was the same peaceful face he saw so often before, when you fell asleep around the team and he'd carry you back to your bunks. How often did he have to pull himself out of your room, when he actually just wanted to stay in your company. And now, he was here, in your embrace. He shook his head, somehow in amusement and somehow in disbelief, and made his way to the other side of the room.

Quietly preparing some tea in the little kitchen corner, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what a normal morning could feel like? His eyes occasionally dart back to your sleeping figure. He let himself dream for just another moment. Imagining how the mornings in his small apartment in Manchester with you by his side could feel like. Images of you wearing his shirt, sharing a bed instead of this stinky couch, laughing while enjoying your favorite tea. It appeared like one of the most peaceful thoughts he had in a long time. Just like last night was one of the most peaceful sleeps he ever had. He wasn't even sure if he ever thought of something like this. Not after Ghost came into his life, that was for sure. Almost all domestic thoughts flooded his mind and a smile clung to his lips, well hidden behind his mask. Everything about the possibility of a different life. A life he could and wanted to share with you, although he was quick to shake those thoughts aside. He hadn’t a different life, so he’d allow himself to cherish the little moments the world - you - could give him.

“What a beautiful…” Johnny's voice boomed through the common room, but got immediately interrupted. Simon signaled him to lower his voice, an open palm stretched out to him before pointing to your sleeping figure on the couch. Johnny’s eyes were filled with concern as he took your figure in. “Did she sleep here again?” You often escaped your room in the last weeks. Always explained it with noisy neighbors.

Simon only nodded, concealing the fact that you’d slept in each other's embrace and suppressing a smile behind the mask. He couldn’t let the Sergeant win this. Johnny started to make himself some coffee as Simon moved over to the couch, sitting down next to you in his usual spot. The cushions shifted beneath his weight as the scent of your favorite tea flooded your nostrils and you slowly woke from your sweet slumber. That was a little perk of being a light sleeper.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you looked up at him, nodding sleepily when he held out the cup of tea for you. The smile that adorned your face was grateful, cheeks flushed with heat when your fingers brushed his as you accepted the offering. Looking into his gaze now in the morning light you froze. There was something lighter in his eyes now, a softness permeating through the usual coldness. Beneath the warpaint, the chaos of high stress missions and the stoicism he always hid his emotion behind, something had been allowed to shine through. Something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“Thank you, Simon.” You sleepily said with a genuine and nearly shy smile on your lips. Soap watched on with mixed feelings while sitting in the armchair across from you. He was annoyed his Lieutenant still hadn't asked you out despite encouragement, and overwhelmed by the obvious pining. Still, he somehow enjoyed this show. He thought it was adorable how helpless the behemoth of a man became when it came to you. Even if Simon thought to conceal all those things, Johnny knew fairly well and in his opinion he already had won.

It was a lazy morning, you and the boys went separate ways, after sharing the preferred morning drinks, to complete the day's work. Stopping by the office to drop off Simon’s hoodie at his desk (again), you noticed a package sitting on yours.

“What’s in there?” Kyle skipped all polite morning phrases and just asked directly, coming to stand behind you as you opened the box. He hovered over your shoulder trying to get a better look. Was it still awkward how close you grew to all of them in such a short period of time? Eventually? Did you mind? Not anymore.

“You know Kyle, curiosity killed the cat.” You smiled smugly and closed the box again. “Need any help, mate?” Your glance wandered to the wall, at the map you produced over the last few days. Kyle shook his head no, still that usual soft smile on his lips. “Call me if you change your mind,” you said simply while patting his shoulder, before you turned on your heel, taking the box from your desk and one from your drawer, to bring them back to your room.

The day continued peacefully. The usual drills like working out with Johnny, taking a run with Kyle, looking after some recruits. Nothing too thrilling. But somehow, you felt uneasy around the recruits. Usually Simon would’ve kept you company but today you were on your own. Nothing you were afraid of, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach and you learned to trust that by now. So you stayed cautious, and you shouldn’t be disappointed in your feelings. The hour was late when you were called in to see Price in his office, your curiosity only growing when you met the familiar brown eyes of your Lieutenant. He held a little envelope in his hand, that he immediately shoved into his pocket as you walked up to them.

“Perfect. Just the two I wanted to see.” Price announced facing you, as you stood next to Simon. John’s usual soft features were serious and stern. You swallowed, fearing that he might have taken notice of your unprofessional behavior. Maybe some of the recruits had seen both of you this morning. Maybe that’s why you felt so uneasy around them, because they did report it to Price. Nothing so uncommon, nothing you haven’t seen before. Especially as part of a special ops unit. Price handed a file to his first mate before he continued and pulled you out of your thoughts. “Thanks to all our hard work, we tracked down the main center of actions and transactions. If we can get access to the bank accounts, we are as good as finished with the job. I want you two to go get it,” he explained while his gaze switched between both of you. “Skadi you’re the expert when it comes to hacking and Ghost is best at slinking about in the shadows.” Your shoulders loosened in relief as you realized it was just a regular briefing. But somehow you were sure that you weren’t off the hook. Price was way too observant. He knew his team too well to ignore the changes you brought.

“When are we heading out?” Simon handed you the file, and your eyes instantly started to read through the lines. His voice was calm as always.

“Early. 0300. Laswell will await you on the other side. Any more questions?” Price looked at both of you.

“Negative,” you said with ease, looking up at your Captain, whose glance switched the slightest. His eyes darted between both of you. It crossed your mind again, that he definitely knew and you would be totally damned.

“You got each other’s back. Right?” His open palms stretched out in front of him. Both of you nodded simultaneously, which made a smile appear on Price’s face. A well known smile. “Good. Dismissed.”

Heading out was easy as always. You bid your goodbyes to Johnny and Kyle who were heading out themselves later, trying to get rid of the next weapon delivery from the warehouses. Same task for Price and König. The mission was simple. Maybe it was because you and Ghost were able to work perfectly in tandem, a well oiled machine also in silence. Even after splitting up, it was no big deal. He was your missing piece and you knew that fairly well.

Staying in contact, you quickly found the room you needed. Thanks to Ghost taking care of anything coming your way, you could easily log into the computers and fight your way through the security softwares. You could watch Ghost over the monitor and warn him if any uninvited guests would cross his way while he made sure to have a way out ready.

“Skadi,” some time later Ghost’s voice echoed through the comms as you browsed through the various files, your eyes darting to the monitor. He didn’t need an affirmation that you watched him, he simply knew. He always did. “Look at that.” His head pointed onto different huge containers, the latest order of weapons you supposed.

Your eyes widened as you noticed the flag of the United States of America all over the containers. “What the hell.” Your eyes found his, as he looked directly into the camera. Even over the distance you had this special connection and an unsettling feeling spread over both of you.

An alarm setting off in the distance pulled you back and gave the sign to leave. “We need to leave.” Ghost’s voice was stern, as he immediately made his way back to your position.

“Give me one second.” Your eyes scanned through the files to get more information about the possible supplier. You needed to dig deeper. Russians and Mexican cartel working together was one thing, but what did god damn America have to do with it now? Was it just a cover for the deliveries? Or was something more behind it? You needed to find out.

“Skadi. Now!” It was a clear order as he stood in front of the door which separated you. You pulled the hard drive out and ran after Ghost, trailing close behind and trying to not gain any more attention. “Laswell sent coordinates of a safe house. 4 clicks away.” He already sent all the new intel her direction, to make sure she could find something out. Bursting through a door you spilled out onto the rooftop, frantically looking for an exit that wasn’t through the horde of enemies which flooded your original way out.

“How did the alarm even go off?” You pushed the door closed again while Simon barricaded it with a thick metal pipe. Afterwards you searched for a possible escape route.

“Doesn’t matter now, ’st need a way out of here.” Ghost joined your search for a safe way out, gaze scanning your surroundings until he found a pipe connecting to what looked like the sewerage system.

“It could lead into the lake.” You voiced, having remembered seeing one on the opposite side of the safe house as you entered. Not exactly ideal, but far better than shooting your way out, not to mention the added benefit of washing away your tracks. “We could give it a go.” You shrugged, watching as your Lieutenant already opened the pipe.

“So, a midnight swim?” He looked at you while placing the seal of the pipe onto the floor.

“How romantic.” The words crossed your lips before you could stop them. An awkward silence settled over the two of you as you screamed internally, slapping yourself for the unprofessionalism. While you had accepted the complicated bundle of emotions you held for him didn’t mean you had to shove them into his face. Hoping he’d take it as your usual teasing jokes. Especially after neither of you had talked about the night in the common room. But the sweet chuckle of your kneeling Lieutenant eased your mind a bit, and at the same time you cursed him for that same reason.

What you didn’t know was that your comment somehow struck a nerve deep down in him. He promised himself to not waste any more time and still he did nothing to help the situation to even make some progress. Something he really had to change. Nobody could know how much time you’d had left with your career paths, and still he couldn’t bring himself to take the first big step. “Ladies first.” He held out a hand to guide you into the huge pipe.

“What a gentleman.” You took his hand, gave him a sweet smile before sliding down the pipe, clutching to your rifle to not lose it. Simon waited a bit before following. Making sure to close the pipe before and to be sure that he wouldn’t directly bump into you during the process. To your fortune the pipe actually led into the lake, so both of you quickly made your way back to the shore. Completely soaked with the cold water. “Jesus. H Christ…Kate really owes me a hot bath,” you said while checking the hard drive while the cold crawled into your system.

Simon only laughed while he checked the coordinates. “6 clicks. Yer gonna make it?” His voice held a bit of concern, but his eyes were still stoic as he looked at you. Putting his rifle back in its usual position. He was still in survival mode.

“Well, it’s either that or dying out here in the cold.” Your voice was slightly sarcastic. Even as you were a year-long trained soldier who had been through hell and back, you still hated the cold. It was your greatest weakness, besides the inner demons you kind of summoned yourself. “Could be worse.” You added softly while putting the hardware away and pulling your own rifle back in position.

“’t least we ‘ave each other.” His accent grew thicker as his eyes burned themselves into you with that sentence. A sentence that held a deeper meaning that you knew right there and then. You blinked at him in confusion about the sudden change in his tone. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “...imagine havin’ Soap whinin’ the whole time.” He cleared his throat once more and averted his gaze into the direction of the safehouse. Johnny could get whiny when he had enough and the mission was as good as over, but he merely did it to annoy his teammates rather than to be actually complaining. It was his way to ease the mood after a long and draining mission. With a sweet laugh of yours you started following Simon’s lead, which would bring you to the safehouse. Waiting for your pick-up after another successful mission.

It took you a good amount of time to arrive at the little cabin. It was nothing special, but well hidden. So, you actually could get some rest and maybe a bit of warmth into your soaked bodies. Simon held the door open for you to step in, after that he locked it and made sure to barricade it. The cabin itself was small, only two rooms. Something like a living room with an old couch in it, which you moved so it faced the door. A little kitchen corner, smaller than the one in the common room back at base and it was definitely out of order. And a small bathroom. Only a sink and a toilet that didn’t seem to work either. “Cozy.” You exhaled while stripping out of your tactical vest and placing it onto the little wooden shelf Simon used as a barricade for the door.

“Could be worse,” he repeated your sentence from earlier while he also pulled himself out of the vest and jacket. Slowly slipping out of his complete survival mode. “Seems like Watcher was prepared though.” He pointed at a duffle bag sitting on the ancient looking couch. Simon leaned against the shelf while you opened the bag.

“Hell yeah!” You pulled out some more civilian, but more important dry clothes. “Prepared as always. Even packed a spare one for you.” You pulled a casual black balaclava out of the bag. You smiled at him while handing him the soft and dry fabric. Nobody followed you here, nobody knew you were here besides Laswell and the driver who’d pick you up. So why not change into dry and warm clothes before the next life or death situation awaits you?

“Maybe we'll find some towels as well,” he said calmly while taking the black mask out of your hand. His gloved fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. Before he went to the bathroom to look for said utensils, taking the bigger shirt and pants out of the duffle bag and with him.

“Well, no luck therefore.” You could hear his voice with ease from the other room, followed by a shuffling of clothes. You decided to take that time to quickly change out of the soaked bodice and exchange it with the simple shirt Kate packed for you. As well as you switched the wet cargo pants against the ones out of the bag. Getting out of the soaked fabric wasn’t that easy as it clung to your skin. It took you a moment longer than usual, a moment that granted Simon a view he’d never forget. Standing back in the room, the wet clothes in his hands, as he gulped at the sight of your ass in nothing more than the wet panties that fitted you like a second skin. His hands clutching tight at the fabric in his hand. He had to force his eyes away. It wasn’t appropriate, he knew that, but he couldn’t suppress the burning in his abdomen. A feeling that was quite unfamiliar for him.

“Lieutenant?” Your innocent voice dragged his attention back to you, while you couldn’t even imagine that he might peek. “You broken?” It was a teasing comment as you sat down on that stinky old couch after. A place most people would’ve been disgusted by, but you rested on worse things.

“’m good.” His answer was almost shy as he walked over and leant against the wooden shelf in front of the door. Placing the clothes down. You nodded as answer and rolled your shoulders back. Why did you suddenly feel so uneasy, almost nervous? Still you couldn’t help but take in the sight in front of you. It was rarely that Simon wore a plain shirt and jeans around you. Kate made sure to pack some very casual clothes in case you had to take cover. So it really was an unusual choice of clothing for the man in front of you. Most of the time on base he’d still wear some tac trousers and a hoodie. Still you could get used to this sight. Your eyes stopped at his arm. Or better said at his tattoo, staring at it a moment too long.

Simon chuckled, what immediately brought your eyes up to his masked face. “But ‘m the one with a staring problem, hm?” He laughed while crossing his arms in front of his chest. His teasing comment made you smile while leaning a bit further into the couch.

“Maybe I’m just a fan of tattoos?” It wasn’t a complete lie, more of a half-assed excuse. You’ve never seen his sleeve complete. He preferred to wear concealing clothes rather than revealing. Having his beefy arms so clearly on display did something to you, but his tattoo indeed caught your interest. “Never saw yours completely, that’s all…” Before you could continue the sentence, you could hear a deep exhale from him, followed by Simon pushing himself up from that shelf and sitting down next to you on the couch. Knees and body facing towards you. Both of your rifles were leaned against the couch on each side, giving easy access just in case.

“Go on ‘en. Take a look.” His voice contained that challenging undertone again, while he held his arm into your direction. It made you sit up straighter. Your eyes looking into his eyes before averting down to his arm. Taking in the different images, which built the whole piece of art together. He was so close next to you, and still it felt like you were worlds apart. You could feel his gaze burning on yourself, as your own eyes got hooked onto a specific part of his tattoo. A pair of dog tags. Your fingers twitched and before your brain could stop them, your hand reached out to his arm to twist it a bit to take a closer look. He tensed at your sudden touch, but he didn’t interrupt it. Too curious what you’d do again and where it’d lead you. Your fingers brushed gently over that spot on his arms, your brows furrowed slightly as you took the symbol for a fallen soldier in, asking yourself who he had lost on his way that was worth the daily reminder.

Simon observed every move you made, every twitch of your fingers and eyes. He took in the concerned features of your face and another deep breath left his lungs. C’mon Riley, she’s fuckin’ worth it. He mentally punched himself, before he found his voice again. “’ey’re mine.” It was only a whisper, something so uncommon for him, but it was enough that your head tilted in his direction. Instantly meeting his piercing and unreadable gaze. The teasing fractures lingering in between completely vanished. There was nothing more but sorrow and regret in them, but also trust. You couldn’t make out what he really wanted to tell. “Reminder for ‘e day Simon died.”

Your eyes darted between his, processing what he just said. There were so many questions circling your mind, but you couldn’t say anything. It was like your tongue was tied and you didn’t want to dig deeper into that, to push him even more. The statement alone was more than you thought he'd ever tell you. Your fingers lingered on his forearm, gaze turning back to them and your face relaxed a bit. Simon literally was your calming spot. Even with the storm of thoughts in your mind, you felt relaxed with him next to you. Not to mention the warmth his body provided.

His eyes trailed from your soft features to your hand lingering on him, over to this daily reminder. It was a part of him, of his past. The day Simon Riley died, and Ghost was born. It took him plenty of therapists, and a lot of effort to become Simon again. But here, alone with you, it wasn’t hard at all. The feeling of your somehow calloused and still soft hands on his skin. The sound of your calm breaths. It was like Ghost didn’t need to exist. Did it scare him? Eventually. But he needed that. He wanted it for himself more than anything. His hand found yours, as his eyes lingered on your knuckles. A deep scar was sitting right between the first two digits. It was a shame how much you already had to endure, he thought. The scar didn’t look old. Not as old as he supposed it to be.

“What?” Your voice was calm, but his sudden movement surprised you. Never before did Simon initiate contact with you, if not for work purposes of course. His bare thumb brushed over your knuckles, over the damaged skin. It was a different sensation to feel his skin onto yours. You thought his hands to be rougher, but you felt nothing but a soothing tingle. His thumb stopped over the deepest part of the pointy scar.

Before he could even ask, you responded. “Oh…” A desperate chuckle left your throat but got stuck. “It’s … It’s nothing. It was after a nightmare…”, you paused for a moment. Why did everything feel so natural when it came to Simon Riley? You didn't know, but you knew that it was so easy to open yourself up around him, even if he never demanded it or insisted for you to tell him about your past. It just felt easy. “... of Randy’s death…” The chuckle was completely gone, but the softness remained in your tone. “I was mad at myself, again… and I punched a mirror because I hated what I saw. A shard got stuck.” You explained while he pulled your hand closer, to take a better look. His eyes were soft as they looked back at you. He didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t need to. His eyes told you everything you needed to know. It was the same one thing you always saw in those brown orbs:

I understand. You're not alone.

He slowly let go of your hand, to push the sleeve of his shirt a bit up. Hesitant first, but nevertheless he revealed a weirdly shaped scar. Two dots, they looked way too small on his thick arm. “My… father…” He started to be hesitant. He took his time while his chest felt heavy. Simon had never told anyone else besides Price, but he knew that you deserved this. “He had some weird…hobbies…” Simon’s eyes were pinned onto the wounded skin. “Brought fuckin’ snakes into our home… wanted us to become brave…” You absently reached out to the spot. Your thumb circled around it while your hand couldn’t reach around his whole arm. “Said that’s how we’d become real men.”

Brows furrowed, as your brain processed all the information. Your eyes found those dark ones again. Just like him you didn’t respond to his words. He didn’t need any pity. The look in your eyes was enough for him. A glance full of understanding, of empathy and at the same time adoration. Something he always found in your eyes. Even after the darkest moment, they brought a light into his life. A warm feeling did spread in his chest. That was something he couldn't let go off.

You swallowed the lump back in your throat while pulling your hand back. Somehow this became the time you reveal your lifes to each other. This was the turning point you never thought could happen. Simon let you in, he let you see his soul. So the only thing you could do was repay the amount of trust. Aiming for the hem of your shirt, you slowly pulled it up. “Back when I became Lieutenant,” you started slowly, but it was so natural to talk about it. Completely different sensation to talking to a therapist.”, they sent me out to take care of some hostages. I took König with me. It is his specialty.” You pulled the hem higher up, revealing a huge burn mark beneath. From the left side of your abdomen to way higher was nothing but burned skin. “It was a trap… a set up. I miscalculated the whole thing. König saved my life, and in the process, he burned nearly half of his face and upper body. Still feel fucking guilty about it when everything I got was… this.”

Simon slowly reached out to let his hand stroke over the burned skin. Your tense shoulders relaxed as his hand stroked over your flesh, while your heart started pounding against your chest.. His hands were much softer than you ever expected and his touch so warm. They came to a halt. But not on that injury you told him about, it was a bit lower, a scar he was too familiar with. His hand took the grip of your waist, gently but destined. His warm hand lingering over the scar you got back in the chem factory. The scar he caused, the one he felt immense guilt for. He pulled you a bit closer, his forearm resting on your thigh by now, he didn't dare to let go of your waist. You only shook your head knowing about his internal fight, signaling to him that it is fine. Even if he wanted to apologize another time; he didn’t. But he decided something different.

Simon’s head hung low for a second, you could see how the wheels in his head kept turning and working, before he took his free hand to pull up his shirt. Mentally he was having a fight. Simon vs. Ghost. The familiar fight he always had when it came to you. His other hand stayed on your waist, glued onto that spot even when your shirt was already down again. His hand felt like it belonged there and you couldn’t mind after all.

His free hand revealed his bare stomach and part of his chest while pulling the shirt up. If this were a normal situation between civilians, then you’d be already on another. But this was anything but normal. You both open to another in a way that was more intimate than anything you have ever witnessed. It made your heart ache. There were several scars planted onto his perfect body, but one stood out.

It was just below his chest, above his rips. His free hand pointed it out before he looked into your eyes. His glance held nothing but trust as your hand already reached out and you placed your flat palm onto his rib cage. You could feel his muscles flex beneath your touch. You could feel how his chest heaved to let go of a deep breath. A breath he didn't notice to hold in. “I…I once was captured.” He started slowly; his voice was so low and nearly trembled. You just knew that this was hard for him to talk about. “They tortured me. Tried to break me.”

He still faced you but his eyes shifted into the distance. Another deep breath followed while you listened carefully, keeping track of every word. “Raped me. Hung me from a hook which they put through my ribs.” Your eyes went back to the spot your hand was placed on, your thumb slowly brushing over the spot said hook left. Simon knew that even after all those years he could still feel the pain within these scarred skin. But suddenly here, in this decrepit cabin, with your soft touch it felt okay. “They even buried me alive. They…he took everything from me.” A pathetic chuckle left his throat, while his eyes focused onto your figure again. “But Ghost came back.”

The hand on your waist gently squeezed you, while the slightest smile tugged at the corner of your lips and suddenly you realized the real meaning of his tattoo. Suppressing the need to say something, it became an unspoken deal. Telling each other about those things without any commentary. Because it was easier that way. Because you literally knew what the other would say about it anyways, because you did understand. You always understood each other. You were his missing piece and he was yours. That’s what you really needed to say to each other and still, neither of you could.

Maybe those emotions were misplaced in this very moment, but he trusted you enough to tell you all of that and you trusted him. You withdrew your hand and went for the strains of your hair sitting on your shoulder. You tilted your head to the right side to reveal your throat. A deep scar just sitting at the side of it. A scar Simon already had seen during the time you were unconscious in the infirmary. His hand immediately reached out to lay soft over it. It made your breath hitch for a moment. “I once…” You started but could feel how the air left your lungs. Simon squeezed your waist once more. Just a sign of comfort, of reassurance to take your time. One hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder. “Before the 141… before the Wolves… there was someone.”

You averted your glance from his. Staring down to your lap where your hands found each other. “He … I … “Simon’s hand wandered from your shoulder to your cheek. Taking a firm grip and you instantly leaned into his touch. Closing your eyes at the comfort he brought you, the strength to go on. “… we made a promise. We’d rather see the end together or we’ll go down below with each other.” Biting the inside of your cheek he didn’t hold, you looked back at him. “He did go… and I couldn’t keep my promise.” A burning sensation spread through your throat and you could feel tears building up in the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you cried in front of a person that wasn’t Randy nor König. “I didn’t succeed.”

Your words let his stomach turn. The vicious look in your watery eyes, a look he knew too well. He pulled you a bit closer, your knees now trapped between his thighs, while his thumb caressed your cheek. In this moment he wanted to break the silence, to tell you so much, he wanted to thank god that you couldn’t keep that promise. That he got the chance to meet you. That you had changed his life and point of view. His masked forehead tilting down to rest against yours by now. His eyes closed while your hands were still clutching on another. The tears stopped. His touch sent shivers down your spine, the coldness was completely gone as you leaned more into him. Your heart was pounding in your chest and still you felt nothing but save.

Before you could start to enjoy this closeness, he pulled back. His hand leaving your face, he didn’t want to force you to look at him, as his thumb hooked under the hem of his mask. He didn’t want to pressure you to do anything. “’ose folks.” He slowly pulled the black fabric up, revealing his chin covered in a blonde stubble, something you had seen often before during your night smokes. But he kept pulling the fabric and with every inch he pulled up, he knew that Ghost had finally lost this fight. “They didn’t stop. For nothing.”

Your heart was nearly exploding as the mask slipped past his lips, past the tip of his nose. You couldn’t help but stare. His upper lip was parted through a huge scar that reached his cheek. It was on his right side, the side that was always hidden when he sat next to you. His nose crooked. Your hands let go of each other as you reached out to let your thumb hover over the scar, over his lip. Not daring to touch it.

“Wanted to mark me in every way possible…” His thumb let go of the mask to let it sit halfway on his face. Already revealing some of the warpaint on his cheeks. He tilted his head slightly so one of your hands cupped his cheek, just like he did with you before, and he nearly melted under your delicate touch.

Your free hand reached for the mask, pulling it the slightest to see if he’d intervene. But he didn’t, he only closed his eyes, and you pulled the mask completely off his face. Revealing his messy blonde hair underneath. Some more scars all over his face, mostly covered by the black paint. He opened his eyes once more as you didn’t move any further. Breath caught in his throat, bracing himself to find any sort of disgust or regret, as his glance were pinned onto yours but he found nothing but adoration.

As you took in all the features of his face, you couldn't help but trace some of his scars with your finger. Soft and carefully. Like he could break any second under your touch, but he did nothing but absorb even the slightest touch. Simon Riley was nothing less than perfect to you. He was equally handsome as pretty and every part of his damaged skin told a story. A story you were a part of now and you couldn’t wait to write the next chapters.

You were sitting closer together than before, the hand that held onto the black fabric lingering on his thigh as you leaned just a bit more into him. Your lips brushing only the slightest over the scar on his cheek. So close to his lips, but still not there yet. Still enough to make him squeeze your waist another time. Your thumb caressing his cheek afterwards. A moment so short that Simon asked him if that really happened. He wasn’t the person to grow nervous or lightheaded, but right now he felt as helpless as a kid again, but for the first time in a good way. Somehow awkward and still so hopeful. His free hand found your other waist, as his now bare forehead was pressed against yours.

Nobody said anything anymore. You just stayed in that moment. Both found more than you could’ve ever wished for. Both of you were broken, shattered into pieces. But Randy once told you that even a broken piece could become a whole. Maybe he was right. Because right here, in that cabin in god knows which forest, both of you found some peace. Some solace. You found an intimacy stronger than anything you could’ve imagined. You found something neither of you thought could ever happen to you.

His hands held you firm by your waist, while you clung to his cheek. Foreheads pressed against each other. No words were needed anymore. Nothing left to say, as he pulled away. Only the slightest. Only to be able to look into your eyes again. By now you were sure, that the thing you slightly witnessed in his glance was hope. Something you thought yourself had lost.

The slightest smile tugging at his lips, causing you to do the same, as his eyes darted between yours and your lips. You could feel your heart exploding beneath your ribs as he leaned in again. Different than before. His head slightly tilted, his nose only merely millimeters away from yours. You could feel his hot breath brushing over your skin and you closed your eyes, entrusting him with whatever he’d do. And Simon acted. He didn’t listen to the internal screams of Ghost. He didn’t think with his brain. He did something he thought he had forgotten: He listened to his heart. It would only take one more second till…

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