Ghost - Praying

The mission was supposed to be simple: enter the abandoned church, secure the place, and wait for extraction. However, an explosion outside forced Simon Riley and her to take refuge in the only available spot: an old confessional.

The door closed behind them. Too small. She stood facing Ghost, barely inches apart. Neither of them said a word. Outside, they could hear footsteps and distant voices; inside, only their breathing. She crossed her arms.

—This is ridiculous.

Ghost didn't respond. He'd worked with her for years, trying to ignore how she effortlessly disrupted his concentration: cold, intelligent, and reserved, just like him. Perhaps that's why he'd never said anything… until now, when their closeness tested his self-control. She watched him.

-Are you OK?

-Perfectly.

Silence. Ghost closed his eyes.

-My God…

She raised an eyebrow.

-That?

He began to pray softly, almost in a whisper. She looked at him, confused.

Are you praying?
-Yeah.
-Now?
-Yeah.

She tried not to laugh.

-Because?

Ghost opened his eyes, looked at her for a moment and looked away.

—Because I need to concentrate.

She frowned.

-In what?

—About not thinking too much… about things I shouldn't think about.

The answer left her speechless. Ghost closed his eyes again and continued praying, growing more serious: the proximity, the silence, and having her so close… nothing helped.

Forbidden thoughts, imagined moments, years of restraint pushed to the limit.

She tilted her head slightly.

—Riley.

-That?

—You pray too much.

-I know.

—Is it that difficult?

—You have no idea.

Footsteps sound again outside; both remain motionless. But no one is thinking about the mission anymore. And Ghost is grateful, for the first time, that his mask hides what he feels.