Upon the Gaze (Ghostface X Reader 18+)

CHAPTER TWELVE - Lavender Kisses at Midnight

"Lavender Kisses at Midnight," read the title of a cheesy romance novel I had in my hand. I made a face that would suggest I hated the romantic genre, and yet I felt the need to peek into the pages of the book.
Even though I had been in intimate relationships before, I had never really known how to be "sexy." My confidence was weak and I was rarely bold in my actions. I simply let the men of my passed relationships dominate me, and I only convinced myself I enjoyed the experiences because that was what was expected of me. Now that I had someone in my life who I wanted to impress, I was determined to know how to make him want me. How to make him stay, and hold me, and more importantly, get passed simple hand maneuvers and flirty comments.
My face began to flush as I read through the page on a late chapter I had landed on. Oh this was good, I thought. I tucked the book under my arm and carried it with me as I continued to push the book cart down my route through the aisles in the library.

On my break, I brought the book with me to my usual seating location, in the serial documentaries section, tucked behind the stairs. I was carful not to let the front cover show, as I didn't want anyone to know I was reading such a raunchy title. I practically choked on my tea while drinking from my thermos, when a particularly dirty scene came up on the next page. I tried to cough silently, considering this was a library, and became hyper aware of my surroundings due to my anxiety telling me I was the cause of disruption. I overheard a voice speaking from the area with the chairs. Leaning around the corner of the stairs, while attempting to finish the cough, I saw the same police officer and women from the previous week. I started to wonder if they were friends, or coworkers who came to chat after work at the library. I eavesdropped on their conversation while the man spoke.
"-found his hideout we did. Looked as though it had been rummaged through only hours before, so he was probably onto the fact that we were hot on this tail."
This was the same cop that spoke as though he was working on a case, tracking Ghostface the last time. This seemed to prove the theory, and so I easily put together that he was infact talking about Ghostface's hideout that he had rushed off to just last night. I sighed quietly in relief realizing they narrowly missed him. As I zoned back in I caught that the women had asked if they were still close to catching him. I tensed up and listened carefully. "God I wish, the bastard left no trace! Once again the ghost disappears!" He whisper-yelled. I felt relief once more. They had no clue where Ghostface had gone, that was good. I was about to go back to Lavender Kisses at Midnight when the women asked about the condition of his hideout, and it re-peaked my interest in their conversation. I watched the cop look around, and lean in. It was almost as though he had no idea how to whisper because no matter how hard he tried it came out more like a strangled, breathy yell.
"It was something, alright. The reports of a stalker with a camera, it was definitely his work. There were photographs all over the place, on the guys bed, pinned to the walls, stuffed in drawers-" the women interrupted, asking impatiently what the photos were of. I as well was impatient to know, thinking back to the photographs he had stuffed in the box and slid under the bed.
"-His victims." The cop said simply at first.
"Bloody and butchered. The guy's sick!"
I turned away from the two, a little shocked myself. I leaned against the stairwell wall, and felt the anxiety raise in me, thinking about what kind of horrible moments were caught in those photographs. I closed my eyes, trying to ease my coming panic attack. The image of Ghostface laughing, eating pancakes, and wrapping his arms around me appeared in my mind. I felt dumb. Somewhere along the way I had diminished the meaning of killer in my mind. I knew he was a killer, I was fully aware, but his interactions with me didn't add up to the cold blooded, cruel individual he was. When the word killer entered my mind, it didn't make me quiver in fear, or be concerned to check the locks on my doors at night. It made me think of a nightly visitor. One that meant hands caressing my body and kisses on my neck. I leaned forward and held up my head with the knuckles of my hand. Suddenly I didn't feel like reading about Lavender Kisses at Midnight.

I drove home, attempting to forget about the conversation I overheard at the library today. Honestly I felt excitement, thinking about how I had someone to come home to now. Someone was waiting for me, someone who I can burry my face into while their strong arms held me tightly. A daydream entered my head, and I smiled at the thought of him. I was no longer concerned about the pictures under his bed.
"Shit."
The pictures under his bed. Damn, I was supposed to forget about those. Curiosity was getting the better of me. "Okay, damn it! I'll confront him about the pictures when I get home!" I shouted in my car. He hadn't killed me yet, so he likely wouldn't kill me if I pried more into his "career" as he refered to it the night he attempted to leave town.
I pulled into my driveway and took a deep breath. I had to appear intimidating in some way if I planned on getting any form of information out of him without him giving me another run around. I held my head high and stomped up to the door. I swung it open, and upon closing it I called for him.
"Ghostface!" I called out.
"Yeah! Upstairs!" He called back. Damn. His voice sounded more raspy than usual, like he had just woken up. I made my way up the stairs, and called to him again, a little softer this time. As I passed the bathroom door, it swung open and a figure came out, stopping me in my tracks.
"Welcome home. You needed something?"
Before me stood a shirtless Ghostface. He had his pants on, but they were unbuttoned, revealing his black boxers and a soft bulge slightly poking through the fabric. My breath hitched and my face felt like it was on fire. My eyes slowly ascended to his face. It looked as though he had hurriedly threw on his mask, as it looked slightly crooked compared to usual and was bunched up at the bottom. Suddenly all thoughts were out the window, no words left my mouth, and that confidence act immediately dropped. He chuckled deeply, peered down at me and said, "like what you see?"
If words could cause a person's head to explode, mine would certainly have. It felt like a fuse had been lit and it was burning up my face as it came down to it's end. Words attempted to stumble out of my gapping mouth, but it formed nothing but gibberish. He strided towards me, and moved to my side, purposely cornering me against the wall. He used one hand to support himself against the wall, leaning on it above my head, and he had his other hand tucked in his pants pocket, causing them to shift down slightly, revealing slightly more of his boxers. I couldn't help but take in the view infront of me. I wanted to burn the sight of his half barren body into my brain. His sultry laughter reawakened me from my heated daze. I quickly covered my scorching red face, a feeble attempt to hide my growing embarrassment. "Why are you hiding your face like that? Haven't you ever seen a shirtless man?" He teased. "Of course I have!" I said in a heated response. "Really? The way you're acting...I'd almost guess you were a virgin." I was frustrated with his comment, but even though I certainly wasn't physically, mentally I felt to be a virgin. I couldn't handle the sight of a half naked man in my hallway, leering over me, and using comments to further fluster me. I was incapable in these situations. "I'm not a virgin..." I whispered, peeking through my fingers at him. "Hmmm? Prove it then." The mood of his voice felt hungry. You would think I would be elated by his actions, but really it reminded me of the person I wish I wasn't.
I'm sure he had been smiling behind that mask. "(y/n)?" His body language softened as I remained silent. My head drooped with my hands still lightly covering my face. I began to pull away from him and made a quick retreat into my room. "Yeah, I- sorry." I hastily closed the door before he could say a word and locked it. I held the handle in place, and breathed shakily. Tears dared to fall again, as they did so often. I felt the panic coming on from the regretful decision. I turned over and slid down the door to the floor, collapsing into my own arms. I attempted to let the emotions come out quietly. I felt confused in the moment. Isn't this what I wanted? I wanted his advancements, I did, just earlier in the day. Why now? What happened? Was it because of what I heard earlier between the cop and the women's conversation? Was his advancement simply too quick? Was I just not ready? Or did I actually not want this?
The thoughts tore apart my mind, and I held my ears as though it would stop the voices arguing in my head.