Las Almas, Mexico
ARZALEA 'SILK' BLACKWOOD

NIGHTMARES HAD ALWAYS WRAPPED its fingers around me, reminding me of the things I'd lost before I was suddenly screaming myself awake in a cold sweat, my body trembling while tears flowed down my face. They say all dreams come true, but they forget to mention that nightmares are dreams too.

However, my dreams aren't just made-up scenarios that my resting mind concours up. No. they are memories — memories of the horrors I faced in the past. My mother. My best friend. Those nightmares were always there, whispering in my ear as a sick reminder of the two people I lost that I cared the most about.

A tear trickled down my cheek and I wiped it away as I thought of Katie Smith, my most recent nightmare.

Katie was a lovely girl. She helped me through the darkest time of my life. The girl was fierce, loyal to a fault, a ball of energy, and last but not least. My bestfriend, My sister. We were friends for five years before she was taken away from me and I missed her every damn day.

I thought back on that day often. The day she died. I think about how it was my fault she wasn't here, living her life to the fullest along my side, just because I selfishly didn't try to save her. For the longest time, I blamed John. A bitch move, I know. But after a while, I quickly realized Katie's death was on no one's hands but my own.

With great power comes great responsibility. That Parker guy really knew what he was talking about when he said that, I pushed my responsibility aside because my selfish ass had to harbor a secret. Now that I'm older and wiser, I realize I don't give a fuck if anyone knows about my advanced DNA. Not if that meant I could have Katie back.

I was so tired — tired of hiding who I really am. And as I sat here, in Las Almas, Mexico. I realized I was still acting like that stupid selfish girl who let her bestfriend die. I wondered what Katie would think of me if she were still alive. I could still hear her voice, telling me to boss up and stop being a pussy. I could hear her laugh at me for being so ridiculous.

Katie had faith in humanity. She believed they would accept that there are people in the world that are different, if you just gave them the chance. Though from my own personal experience, no one liked a freak.

People are afraid of what they don't understand, and that makes them dangerous. Which is why I can't tell anyone — But I want to — So, in a way, this is what's best.

Keeping a secret about myself until death. Even if it gets people killed...

The cool night air kissed my bare arms as I stared up at the sky, my back resting against the wall of the Compound while I sipped from a cup of coffee. I was so deep in thought that for once, I didn't notice the towering figure that lurked in the shadows, watching me as I silently cried.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I heard a scuffing noise from behind me and I felt the familiar burn of someone's stare. I instantly recognized the presence. The power that radiated from it. I knew who it was without even having to look over.

"Is lurking in the dark, watching people, like a hobby for you or something?" I began, my voice a little horse from all the screaming I did in my room earlier. I wiped my wet cheeks quickly, hiding my face behind my loose hair. "Or am I just that special?"

It was silent for a moment, the only sounds that could be heard was the light breeze and our breathing. I didn't think he was going to reply, but to my surprise, the man moved from the shadows slowly and stepped into the dim lighting the compound had to offer.

I slowly dragged my gaze in his direction and had to pause for a moment.

Ghost stood a few feet away, wearing only a simple gray T-shirt that hugged his upper half well, and a pair of black sweats. My eyes go to his arms, noticing his right had a sleeve of ink that worked all the way up and disappeared under the cropped sleeve of his shirt. I momentarily wonder if it kept going, or if it stopped at the top of his broad shoulder. It was odd, seeing him this way. I had never seen him in anything other than the normal tactical suits that he always wore, so seeing him dressed so casually, with mouthwatering tattoos, had my heart doing this stupid thing where it fluttered in my chest and I had to look away.

Ghost didn't speak for a while, just openly observing the side of my face as I hid it away, hoping to the gods above that he wouldn't notice I had been crying. I hated that he had found me at my most vulnerable moment, when my walls were cracking, and I felt like everything was falling apart. And I knew from his silence he knew. He always knew everything.

"You're a mess," His voice finally broke the silence, blunt like always.

I snorted, "Thanks. I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." I snarked lightly as I lifted my cup to my mouth and took a short drink.

He took the few remaining steps to be next to me and let out an amused huff, "You're welcome," He replied dryly, sliding down the wall.

I tried not to tense as his bare arm touched my own, the skin-to-skin contact setting me on fire. I could feel gooseflesh rise on my arms and I chalked it up to the fact that it was cool outside, and I was just cold. Though I never got cold.

"Why are you out here alone? It's late." His voice was as low as ever, his eyes studying me closely.

"I couldn't sleep," I said barely above a whisper, too mentally drained to try to be any louder.

"Too much on your mind?"

"Something like that," I wasn't about to admit I had nightmares. How childish did that sound?

"Want to talk about it?" He asked, his voice unusually soft despite the blank look he held.

I turned to look up at him, my brow rose. "Would you actually listen?"

Now that, was a fair question coming from me. We didn't exactly get along, I was always smart-mouthing him and he was always putting me in my place — which meant he didn't know a lot about me, about this vulnerable and tired side of me.

"I'm listening." His voice is quiet.

"I just...It was just a stupid nightmare,"

His voice is surprisingly soft, "Nightmare?"

"Well not really a nightmare, more of a memory,"

He watched as I spoke, how my voice wavered as if I were recalling the memory itself, pain and sadness obvious on my features.

"Memory, huh?"

"Yeah. But honestly, I don't want to talk about it, but thanks for the offer."

He was silent for a moment, the silence surrounding us, "That bad?"

I still didn't look up at him, scared that if I looked, he would see everything I was hiding and fighting. I let out a huffed chuckle, shrugging.

"I guess you could say that," I side-eyed him, noticing the way his large hands were curling and uncurling at his sides. "Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," Was his raspy reply, and that was when I finally looked up at him.

Our eyes locked and I had to pause for the second time tonight. In his usual blank stare was understanding — understanding of what it's like when the night is quiet, and your demons come back to bite you on the ass. As his chocolate-colored gaze ran over my face, I swear, for a moment they pause on my lips.

I searched the harsh lines that creased his mask, looking, searching, for any flicker of movement that might give away what he's feeling. The longer we stare at each other, the harder it feels to breathe. We were so close to one another, I could feel his heat pouring off him in waves and I just wanted to move an inch closer, to wrap myself in what was Simon Riley.

My body tenses when I see his hand come up from the corner of my eye, and that was when I noticed he wasn't wearing his gloves either. My eyes track that hand as I wonder what the hell he's doing. His rough finger touched my cheek with a tenderness I didn't know this man could possess. My heart hummed as his touch sent a jolt of fire across my skin and knocked the breath from my lungs.

All to soon, I'm jerked back into reality when I realized he just swiped away an eyelash from all my crying I had done. My cheeks warm and I have to look down so he can't see how much this was affecting me. I fucking hated crying in front of others. I always felt like I had to apologize, to make excuses for the way I feel.

"Make a wish,"

The look he gave me can only be described as curiosity and I know he didn't understand what I meant. I hesitantly reach for the hand that was still hovering in front of my face and ignore the burn as I turned it to his face, the finger holding the lash coming closer to where his lips would be behind the mask.

"They say its good luck to make a wish on eyelash,"

Ghost looked at the lash for a moment, his eyes unreadable before they look back up to mine. He seemed to contemplate my request for a moment before his eyes fell shut, a few seconds passed, then he reopened them and blew the lash off his finger. Having to blow pretty hard considering.

I let go of his hand and hold his gaze as I relax back into my spot, "What'd ya' wish for?"

"Now, I can't tell you that." His voice was raspy, more than usual.

"Oh right, forgot about the rules of a wish," The sarcasm is clear in my tone and it earns a snort from Ghost.

I feel warm as I sit there with him, the air charged with this unknown emotion I wasn't used to having around him. He folded his arms over his bent knees and I watched the monster biceps flex from the movement. I wondered what they feel like wrapped around me while I straddle his lap. And then I mentally scold myself. One minute, I'm running away trying to hide all my secrets while hating this man, and the next I'm wanting him to wrap me up and hold me close so I could smell the unique scent he has.

I have fucking problems.

I suddenly felt hot and looked out, staring at the empty space of the Compound. I hated the charged atmosphere that seemed to take over as we sat in silence together. I took another drink from my coffee before clearing my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but his voice cut me off.

"My grandmother said I was to reliant on technology,"

For a moment I had to pause, because his words were so sudden, and he sounded so serious. His grandmother? I slowly turned my head back in his direction, but he wasn't looking at me. I pursed my lips, sniffling to clear my airway before I asked, "What?"

"So, I told her she was a hypocrite and unplugged her life support," This time, he actually looked at me, dark eyes expecting.

I'm silent for a moment, a little stunned at Ghost, who painted himself as an emotionless shell of a man, just pulled a dad joke on me. And a morbid on at that. Who knew he had a sense of humor? My lips slowly curled into a tiny genuine smile, and I can't stop the soft laugh that passes my lips.

It's unexpected from me, and I could tell Ghost wasn't expecting me to laugh either, because for once those lifeless eyes seemed to awaken and an emotion I don't recognize floods his gaze. It almost seemed soft? His gaze kisses my face, taking in every detail before pausing on the corner of my mouth and I instantly knew he must be looking at my dimple. His eyes linger long enough to make me feel flustered.

I bit my lip and turn away to hide my smile, "That was so morbid,"

"But you laughed,"

"Oh, I wasn't laughing at the joke,"

I looked at him again to see he was raising a brow at me, his balaclava shifting from the movement.

"You weren't?"

"I was laughing at you,"

He chuckled and for a moment the sound stunned me. Just like his talking, it was deep and raspy, and I found myself wanting to record it so I could save it for later and remember this moment. He had a nice laugh. Despite him being Satan and all.

I took another drink, and he suddenly asked, "Is that coffee?"

"Yeah," I looked down at the drink before looking back up at him when I noticed the judgment in his tone, "Why?"

"It's one in the morning,"

"And?"

He scoffed, shaking his head at me as if me having a coffee late at night was unknown to him. "You American's and your coffee,"

I make a mock face of offense, holding my cup to my chest as if it were my baby. "Don't judge me!" I said before a calculated grin pulled at my lips, a movement he seemed to follow with his eyes, "That would be like me saying 'Oi, would you like a spot of tea?"

He laughed at my pour attempt to mock his accent, his eyes lighter as he stared down at me.

"That was terrible,"

"Actually, I think it was pretty spot on."

"You're insufferable,"

"You're a pain in my ass,"

"It's a nice ass,"

I choked on my drink as I was taking yet another sip before glaring up at him. "How would you know?"

For a moment, those dark eyes nearly looked black as he stared down at me and ever so slightly, he leaned closer. And in that moment, all our arguing and our previous conversation disappeared. Because the way he was looking at me now didn't look like the Ghost I was used to. No. He was Simon Riley, and I was finally getting to meet him, even if it was for a fleeting moment.

"I've seen it,"

My whole face slacked into confusion as I thought for a moment. How in the hell has he seen my ass?

"Wait, you're saying you've seen my bare ass?"

"Yes,"

"Liar,"

He looked me dead in the eye and this was the moment my soul left my body, "You have a cute little birthmark on your left cheek. It's shaped like a heart,"

What. The. Fuck. My mouth popped open, yet nothing came out. I just sat there, mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish, my brain trying to process what this man just told me. Finally, I am able to mutter. "H-How – when?"

The mask on his face shifted and I could only assume he was smirking, "If you're going to use the locker room showers, make sure to lock the door if you don't want someone coming in."

"You fuckin' creep!" I hit his shoulder rapidly, "Peeping tom!" I hit him again, "Stalker!"

Ghost grabbed my hands when I tried to hit him one last time, his eyes shining with smug amusement, "Calm down, Love, I didn't watch you. I just so happened to walk in and saw. I left right after."

Love? Oh man, I think my heart just combusted. I get called Love a lot by men, but coming from Ghost and his deep raspy voice, it was like a sin that I wanted to commit.

Pushing down the sudden urge to lean into his touch, I narrowed my eyes instead, "I don't know if I should believe you or not,"

"I would ask if you trusted me, but I know how that conversation would go."

"Wise man," I said back as my eyes darted to his bearlike hands that were still holding my wrist. Surprisingly, I didn't mind him touching me this time.

Ghost's eyes followed my gaze and he softened his hold before letting go completely and I suddenly felt cold. He tilted his head ever so slightly, consideration in his gaze as if he were thinking real hard on something, yet he didn't know how to start.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked when he made no attempt to speak.

He took in a breath, turning away for a moment before turning back and steeling me with a look that was slightly guarded. He was showing a lot of emotions tonight and it was giving my head a spin.

"I actually came out here looking for you,"

Now I was really curious, "Why?"

"I shouldn't have pushed so hard last night,"

I instantly knew what he was referring to and I just stared up at him. Was he trying to apologize? The thought left me questioning my sanity. Ghost didn't seem the type to give someone his sorry's, but right now that was the vibe I was picking up.

"Is that your way of apologizing?"

"It is,"

"Okay,"

"This doesn't mean I trust you," He made sure to let me know.

I scoffed, yet it held no heat. "likewise, big guy."

His eyes soften once more and I'm beginning to like how they look at me. He nodded and yeah, it felt pretty good knowing we might have just reached some common ground, for now at least. Still, I wasn't about to open up and share all my little secrets with him. He at least had to take me to dinner first.

"Don't be late for our training session tomorrow," He said as he went to stand. My eyes tracked him as he stood up and squared his shoulders, and in a moment of weakness, my gaze dropped. And damn, did this man have a nice ass. How have I not noticed it before?

I quickly averted my eyes before I could get caught. I stood up along with him and we faced each other for a moment. I cleared my throat, tucking a hair behind my ear as I stared up at him.

"I won't and, uh, Thank you..."

By the look in his eyes, I knew I didn't have to elaborate. He knew what I was thanking him for, and that was all that mattered. He turned on his heel and began to walk away, but before he could disappear, he paused and looked back over his shoulder at me.

"Get some rest, Tinkerbell. Early rise for us in the morning." He reminded and with that, he was gone, disappearing into the building like the Ghost he was.

And for once, that stupid name he gave me didn't piss me off. No. It made me feel something completely different.