The Masks in Your Life (Ghost x Reader)

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Ghost stood in front of the big house that would be his temporary home with two duffle bags in his hands.

With a heavy sigh, he observed the tall door before pushing the key inside the lock.

It swung open and revealed an inviting hallway with a kitchen to the left and a spacious living room to the right.

Admittedly, the house was nice. Flooded with light because of the big windows, perfectly sized to spy.

That was his mission after all. Spying.

The previous mission had taken a toll on him, physically and emotionally, so Price had sent him on one that was like a holiday compared to his usual work.

He didn't like holidays though. It ripped him out of his usual habit of burying his thoughts in overworking himself.

The duffle bags dropped to the floor, the door falling shut behind him with a click.

Sighing once more, he started setting up his new living space, starting with a tour of the rooms.

He didn't know how long the mission would take, so he even unpacked his clothes and put them in the empty wardrobe in the bedroom.

He glanced out of the window at the target's house while neatly folding his fifth black shirt.

The CIA didn't have nearly enough information on the man, so Laswell directly asked Price for help. He sent Ghost to find proof about his ties to a foreign, violent drug cartel.

In all honesty, Ghost didn't think he was the best man for the job. His skull mask was safely stored behind his clothes, but there was no way he would take the balaclava off. This would surely garner attention from the neighbours... but Price trusted him, and he always had some excuses at the ready.

The target was nowhere to be seen yet, but there was something else catching his attention from the corners of his eyes.

In the house neighbouring the target was movement.

He turned his head and spotted a young woman on the top floor.

It was you, doing nothing other than tidying or something trivial like that, but still managing to look ethereal while doing it.

Your hair was beautiful, framing your features exactly how he liked it. The curves of your body hugged perfectly by casual jeans and a tight shirt, all in all definitely a woman he would turn his head for if she passed him on the streets.

And that was rare.

He hummed in appreciation as he watched you making the king size bed in the room you stood in like a hawk, his professional habit allowing him to not miss a single detail.

From what he could tell from the short time, the room fitted you well. Minimalistic and exquisite, but not soulless. Even the simple act of shaking the sheets looked graceful when you did it, and Ghost couldn't help but stare.

Neither could he help but wonder why your pretty face looked melancholic and sad, while your body portrayed the opposite.

You looked like you were in your mid-twenties, too young to be that unhappy. But for all he knew, you could just have a bad day.

You finished tidying and left the room, helping Ghost to snap back into reality when you were out if his sight.

Amused at how oblivious you had been to his staring, he turned back to the other window, concentrating on his initial task.

He ordered a grocery delivery online to his temporary house and settled down in the chair in his bedroom, after pulling down the blinds to ensure nobody could see him setting up the military grade telescope.