The guilt Ghost felt was indescribable; eating away at him, stomach twisting into tight knots — suffocating and heavy as it settled on his heart.

Lately, the team had been burdened with a spy within their ranks, and coincidentally, all fingers pointed towards you.

And ever since, you’ve been subjected to continuous torture for the truth by the ones you trusted most — the ones you bled with, fought with, and laughed with; suffering wound’s no amount of apologies would heal.

What worsened the situation by a mile was that it was all just a mere ploy in a much bigger game.

Now all that remained once you were released from captivity was to stay by your side as you healed. As your lover, at least, that’s what he’d been. His actions, bitter words during your torment were unforgivable.

For days, he kept firm at your bedside — no matter how hard you fought back against his presence in your weakened state.

“I..” Ghost sighed. The sterile room you were placed in smelt of antiseptic, annoyingly strong for his taste’s; overwhelming his nose.

He never was one to apologize, yet the pain he inflicted was deserving of many more than he could ever provide — having left emotional and physical scars.

Slowly, he reached to enclose your hand in one of his, hesitating before he pulled back with an awkward cough. Ghost looked away, “I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you.”