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You left like five masks here. Hopefully you won’t need them.
-Laura Taylor’s letters to Simon Ghost Riley 39/ ?
Laura felt like she was walking on air after that intimate night she and Ghost had. She hadn’t expected any of that out of him. It’s always the quiet ones who are the strongest under the covers. Despite being intimate with one another, Ghost was still distant on random days. She would try to hold his hand, but he would slip out of her grasp. But the next day, he would wrap his large arms around her, pushing her against his body. It was hard to figure out when he was distant and needy the next, but thankfully the needy days outweighed the distant days.
The task force was out on a mission, leaving Laura behind, again. She knew it was Ghost’s doing. It was never a problem before that she was out on mission, but now that they were together, it changed everything. Laura didn’t mind. Honestly, being in a warm safe base was better than being shot at but of course she worried that something might happen to them on the field.
When her radio went off, she knew that was the case. “Doctor, it’s Price. You copy.”
Laura tapped into her ear piece. “Copy.”
“Ghost got a big slash on his face, he needs stitches, good ones. Over.” Price.
“I’ll be ready. Over.” Laura.
She lowered her hand onto the table, her fingers drummed against the wood. His face, huh? That may be a serious problem. Even when they had sex, he had kept on his jacket, his pants around his knees and his mask. It was obvious he didn’t want her to see his face, or any part of his body. Laura may respect his boundaries, but Dr. Taylor won’t if it is a serious cut.
Laura had the supplies on a prep table; her gloves, a few packets of suture, numbing medicine, sterile scissors, and gauze. It won’t take long, as long as he is on his best behavior. She heard the helicopter land and muffled voices in the hallway, and then a knock on her door. She walked over to the door and opened it, Ghost stood in the doorway. His skull mask had blood on it and a large slash tore through the black hood on his left cheek, she spotted the open wound. It definitely needed to be closed before an infection spread.
“I can fix it myself,” he said as he walked into the room, and she closed the door behind him.
“I’m the doctor.” She replied calmly, causing him to glare over at her.
“The mask isn’t comin’ off.” He said, sternly.
Of course, she had expected him to say that.
“It has to. I know you don’t want me to see your face, for some reason ,but I have to close the wound and actually see it. You know that.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ghost was quiet, his head turned slightly to the side, staring at the wall. Laura walked over to his side, and stared at the bloody slash. The longer they argue, the worse it will look. She slowly raised her hand toward the cut but his gloved hand grabbed her wrist, pushing her hand away.
“Simon,” she spoke softly but his grip on her wrist tightened. Her hard Dr.Taylor image was fading, being the doctor didn’t always work with him. She needed to be more sensible, more understanding.
“No,” he said, his gaze to the side.
She scoffed. “You’ve already seen me naked. So, I should be able to see your face.”
“Barely,” he said, turning his gaze toward her. His brown eyes met her green ones. “The lights were off.”
“You wanted the lights off, remember?” She replied, and his grip loosened around her wrist. “I mean, I can take my clothes off right now, but you have to take off your mask.”
He was quiet, thinking to himself. Slowly, he released his grip on her wrist but walked away from her. His back was turned to her, her green eyes watched him carefully.
“What if,” he paused, collecting his thoughts. “What if you don’t like what you see?” His voice was low, barely a whisper.
Laura blinked and walked to his side, gently placing her hand on his back. He flinched slightly at her soft touch, but didn’t push her away. Of course, he was afraid that she may find him hideous under the mask. He hides his face from everyone, even himself. He’s ashamed, he would never say it out loud, but his actions show it.
“I told you before I want all of you. What’s under your mask is just a bonus for me,” she said softly, her hand rubbing his back gently.
He took a deep breath in, and exhaled. She watched as his gloved hands reached for his neck, slowly pulling up the black balaclava. His bare neck was exposed, but he stopped. She saw his hands were trembling, and she stopped rubbing his back, walking toward his side. He slowly pulled it up past his nose and she saw where the slash started, right at his earlobe and toward the bridge of his nose. She also saw his other scars, a small one around the corner of his lips, a large one starting at his temple down to his chin, and another small one at his right eyebrow. His sandy blonde hair was sticking out at the edge of his mask.
Maybe she was pushing him too far. Maybe she could fix the wound if he kept the mask on, but she really needed to assess the whole wound. However, putting him in such a state was cruel.
“That’s enough, I can work with that.“ she softly said.
Ghost lowered his trembling hands as she walked over to her prep table. She brought her chair over with her for him to sit down, which he did. She put on her gloves and looked at the wound, it was deep. She would need to be careful suturing it together. She picked up the syringe filled with numbing medicine, tapping it with her index finger. He was looking straight ahead, and she remembered his concerns about needles. A distraction was needed.
“Do you ever put cream on your scars?” She asked him.
“Used to,” he said as she poked the needle into his face. “But I stopped,” she injected the medicine, causing him to groan.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and withdrew it quickly. “Why did you stop?” She reached for the suture, putting it on the needle driver.
“Didn’t work,” he mumbled.
“It’s not supposed to make them go away completely,” she said as she gently laced the needle through his skin.
Ghost’s hand tightened on the chair’s arm. “Then what’s the point of it?”
Laura frowned at his words, and laced the needle again, pulling his skin upwards. He had a point, but she wouldn’t admit it.
“I have a scar behind my ear,” she said as she cut the tail off the suture.
“I know,” he said, causing her to look at him, his brown hues meeting her green eyes. His skull mask illuminated his gaze. “I noticed it when we first met.”
“Ah,” she turned the needle in his skin, pulling his skin together. “Aren’t you observant ? Well, my dad gave it to me when I was a kid.”
“What!?” His voice raised, angry. Oh, he must have thought it was abusive.
“No, no, no,” She waved her free hand. “Not like that, never. He took me fishing when I was a kid, it’s his favorite thing to do. He taught me how to cast a line. But when he went to cast his, the hook got stuck right behind my ear and then well, just imagine a hook leaving your skin as someone throws their line out to the water.”
She cut the tail off the suture, his wound slowly coming together. She softly dabbed the blood with the gauze. “Sounds painful,” he said.
“Extremely. I was bleeding down my neck and my poor dad,” she paused to let out a chuckle. “He freaked out, and actually passed out at the sight of my blood. So I had to find his phone, you know a blackberry, and call 911. I will never let him forget that.”
Ghost was quiet as she cut off the needle on her suture, laying on the prep table. She started tying the suture against his skin. She cut the suture down to his skin and dabbed at the wound. It looked better, the skin was closed up and it was no longer bleeding.
“There, all done.” She said as she pushed the prep table away from them. She took off the surgical gloves, tossing them in the chair.
“Laura,” his voice caused her to turn slightly toward him. His brown hues were on the ground below, staring at his shoes. “You can take off the rest,” he softly said to her and Laura blinked at his request.
“Are,” she paused and walked over to him. “I don’t have to,” her voice low.
“No,” he shook his head. “I,” he paused, his brown eyes darting to the side. “I want you to.”
He wanted her to take off his mask. The very thing that kept him safe from others. It was his imaginary wall. It was his safe zone. She never thought he would say those words to her, ever. She had accepted that she may never see his face, and she was okay with that. Whatever he was willing to share with her was enough. Laura walked back over to him and stood in front of him. He parted his legs slightly and placed his trembling hands on the waistline of her cargo pants, pulling her against him.
Her hands moved down the edge of his black balaclava, and slowly moved it past his nose. The skull inched into his mask made it difficult for her to roll it past his eyes so she moved her hands faster, pulling it off his face. The movement caused the fabric of his mask to smear his warpaint up to his forehead. His sandy blonde hair was soft under her touch and she placed the mask on her desk, carefully. His head was angled in front of him, staring at her chest and his eyes refused to make eye contact with her. Her hands gently rested on either side of his neck, trying to crane his head up toward her. He wouldn’t move so she leaned down and pressed her lips against the scar on his forehead, causing him to flinch away from her touch. However, his hands pulled her forward toward him, her knees against his abdomen.
“You really thought I wouldn’t want you if you showed me your face?” She said against his skin.
He turned his head slightly. “You don’t think,” his words betrayed him and she pulled away slightly, her hand resting on his face. His brown hues met her green ones.
“I think you’re handsome, obviously.” She said softly to him, causing Ghost to pull her against him, hard. “And I already knew you were a blonde.”
He was quiet, watching her with his brown hues. His hands weren’t trembling on her waist, but there was a sadness in his brown hues. Did he honestly think she wouldn’t want him? Did he really think she was going to be disgusted? Was he that ashamed of himself? Laura’s fingers traced over his large scar causing him to flinch, turning his head to the side. It was deep. The sight of the scar angered her, knowing someone did that to him. She removed her hand from his face causing him to turn his attention back to her.
“You said you would take off your clothes,” his humor surprised her and she smiled slightly down to him.
“I did say that, didn’t I?” She hummed, his fingers digging into her waist.
“Yea,” he pulled her hard, pulling her into his lap. “You did, I don’t forget.”
She chuckled and buried her head into the crane of his neck. Her legs were hanging off his lap as he pressed his nose into her hairline. Her hand stroked his cheek, her fingertips grazing over the large scar on his cheek. She wanted to stay like this with him forever. He had finally opened up to her. He had let his walls down, for her. He shared such a secret with her, how could she possibly return the favor. Yes, she knew so little of his past but hopefully one day he would tell her. For now, this was a victory unto itself. And she would celebrate it.