Ghost

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the world cloaked in twilight. In the quiet aftermath of their latest mission, Ghost found himself stationed at a safehouse deep in the Bavarian forest. It was an old, creaking structure, smelling of pinewood and history, and it felt as weary as the soldiers who passed through its walls.

Ghost leaned against the windowsill, his mask pulled up just enough to sip the coffee that had gone lukewarm in his hand. His eyes scanned the surrounding trees, always alert, always calculating. But tonight, something felt different. The usual silence of the woods seemed heavier, as though the forest itself held its breath.

And then you walked in.

You were new to the task force, a medic recruited for your unparalleled skills in the field. Ghost had seen you work before—steady hands in chaos, a calming presence amid the storm. But here, in the dim light of the safehouse, there was something about you that made him falter.

"Couldn’t sleep?" you asked, your voice soft but clear, cutting through the quiet like a melody.

"Something like that," Ghost replied, his accent curling around the words. He gestured to the chair across from him. "Join me, if you’re up for some cold coffee."

You laughed, the sound light and unguarded, and it did something to him. For a man who wore masks both literal and figurative, the simplicity of your presence was disarming.

As the hours passed, the two of you talked—first about the mission, then about things that had nothing to do with war. You told him about your life before the military, your favorite books, the places you hoped to see when the fighting was over. Ghost listened, offering pieces of himself in return, though always careful not to reveal too much.

But there was one moment when his guard slipped.

"You ever think about what comes after all this?" he asked, his voice quieter than before.

You tilted your head, and said. "After the missions? The battles? what do you want?"

"Maybe you." he said under his breath, and clears his throat. "I don't know."

"You don't know? maybe even showing some love in this relationship " you said. ", Ghost."

The way you said his name, soft and full of meaning, made something in him stir—a longing he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

"I’m not so sure about that," he murmured.

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing his gloved hand. "You should be."

For a moment, the weight of his past didn’t seem so heavy, and the future didn’t feel so bleak. Ghost knew it wasn't his job to fall in love but damn it felt good through to do so...