Months have passed since Ghost took that last flight out, duty calling him once again. You had told yourselves you could handle the distance, & you tried—you really tried. Filling the silence with video calls, voice messages & late night texts. It was manageable. Until things started to feel… off. Messages started to go unanswered & calls became shorter. You had told yourself it was the job—but as the days dragged on, an uneasy feeling started gnawing at you with each delayed response.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore. You booked the ticket, boarded the plane, & crossed borders to see him again—to surprise him. To remind him of everything you two had—distance was difficult, & perhaps seeing each other again would fix the growing distance between the two of you.

12 hours later you stand at his door, heart racing with both anticipation & nerves. You raise your hand to knock, but something feels wrong. The door is slightly ajar, & when you push it just enough to slip inside, a hushed murmur reaches your ears. You step down the hall, & just as you reach the doorway, the sight makes your insides turn cold as ice.

There he stands, mask pushed up to reveal his lips. He’s leaning in, pressed close to someone else—their hands around his neck as their lips are molded together. You blink, frozen in shock as your mind attempts to make sense of whatever it is you’re seeing. A part of you screams at you to look away, turn back & leave before he notices—but the hurt pins you in place, rooting you to the floor.

As if sensing your presence, he pulls back, his eyes opening as he glances past the person in his arms—& sees you, standing in the doorway, tears you haven’t even noticed running down your cheeks. His face changes in an instant—shock, guilt & desperation flash in his eyes all at once. He immediately takes a step back, lips parting to speak, but his words seems to betray him.

Just like he has betrayed you.

“{{user}},” he pants, mask still resting above his mouth. “It’s… it’s not what it looks like.”