How The Angel Fell: Ghost Face x Reader (DBD)

The Chocolate

"You just gonna stare at me forever?" The Ghost Face asked through the thick silence of the house.

"I think so." I replied sheepishly.

We hadn't moved from our spots that we found each other in. I continued to stare at him in the doorway of the living room, wide eyed with my mouth slightly agape. I couldn't move or scream or shout or anything. I just remained there, staring at the killer who was casually reading the newspaper on my couch. A photo of the Ghost Face's mask was on the front page followed by an article written by Danny Johnson.

Shit! Danny! He wanted me to call him! We've barely seen each other since we—!

"You're real pretty, you know that?" The Ghost Face rasped out in front of me.

I gasped and jolted up at his ghostly presence now before me. His gloved hand met my hair and he ran his fingers through it carefully, avoiding tugging at it.

"You gonna say anything?" The Ghost Face tilted his head.

My mouth opened and eyes remained staring at him silently.

"Uh, no." I said dumbly.

The Ghost Face chuckled. "Aw, c'mon, sweetie. Your voice is also so pretty." His own voice was deep and raspy against me.

I could always tell that there was a cheap voice changer in there too. I wondered what he sounded like without it.

"That's too bad. I just love our talks." The man giggled.

I furrowed my brow and gazed upon him through it.

"We've had a full conversation, like, once." I quirked.

"I saw you went out drinking last week. Didn't I tell you before not to do that? You could seriously hurt yourself, darling." The Ghost Face walked past me, towards my bedroom.

"Excuse me?" I stormed after him.

"You were with that man that keeps writing about me. What'd you two get up to, anyway?" The Ghost Face asked.

He entered my room and stared at the open window, the curtains flowing with the gentle breeze.

"That's none of your business." I placed my hands on my hips as I glared daggers into his back.

The Ghost Face whipped around to face me, causing me to jump in place, startled.

"Oh, baby. I want everything of yours to be my business." The hooded man snaked his leather clad arms around my waist and buried his mask into the crook of my neck.

A soft gasp left me and I tensed up before hesitantly relaxing in his embrace.

"I... am kinda seeing someone..." I trailed, awkwardly looking at the open window.

"Who? That journalist guy?" The Ghost Face looked up at me from my shoulder.

"Maybe him, maybe not." I uttered.

The Ghost Face gazed upon me for a few moments before his hand inevitably stroked a strand of hair away from my face.

"You're pretty." He complimented.

"You said that already."

"Yeah, 'cause you're pretty."

I blinked, and he giggled.

"Okay, Mr Ghost Face." I began. "Please leave my house or I'll call the police." I cleared my throat and straightened my outfit.

The Ghost Face threw his head back in laughter and I felt myself shrink in embarrassment.