Quiet Tension

Hurt

I find myself feeling less standoffish towards Ghost, and I can't say that I like it. I feel myself give him small smiles of my body's own accord, and I notice that when he comes nearer, my shoulders relax just slightly.

I tell myself that I am just really lonely, and that I need a friend.

I continue on with work, trying my best to dodge Ghost when I can, just because I don't like who I am around him. I need to stay focused.

One particular night, I stay late - yet again, but what else would I be doing - when the chief of the cybersecurity team comes in. He mainly works in his office, so I don't see him much. For all I know, he's not working on the same project that the rest of us are.

"Staying late again, Cavanaugh?" he asks, pausing near the hallway that goes down to his office.

"Yes," I say, buried nose-deep into my work.

"Must not be very good if you've gotta stay after hours all the time," he says, off-handedly.

I freeze, feeling his words drip over my skin. I turn around, facing him in my seat. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, you're pretty young, aren't you? A lot to learn." Carelessly, he takes a drink from his water bottle.

"I'm one of the primary headers of the team," I say, "I think I would know what I'm doing. Me staying late is helpful to the other members, but I'm not overcompensating for anything."

"Right," he says, looking away. "You're not overcompensating."

I stand up, then. "I think you should explain yourself, Chief."

Lowering his tone and slowing down the speed of his words, he speaks to me like I'm a child. "I think that you aren't very good at what you're doing, and you have to work extra hard because you can't do your job right. I mean, you guys had to start over, didn't you?"

I stand, shocked for a moment. "You're not even on the project," I say. "You wouldn't know anything about what we're doing."

"There's a reason you're doing little tasks like that while I work in my own private office," he says, a quiet laugh on his lips. "You're a young girl that they want working on the easy stuff, but you can't even keep up."

"That is not appropriate," I say. "Quite frankly, it's sexist and uncalled for."

"It is called for, Cavanaugh," he says, my name like an insult. "Someone's gotta call you out. Stick to your bitch job while I do big boy stuff in the office."

At that, he turns on his heel and leaves, not giving me the opportunity for a comeback.

I close up my things then, deciding I'm done for the day. I quietly leave, worried he'll hear the door and know I've accepted defeat.

Fighting tears, I run-walk to my car, embarrassed at my response to his behavior and angry at his words. They're not true, I know they're not, but still, it hurts.

But what if they are? I mean, I don't know what he's doing in his office, and we did have to start over...

Lost in my own thoughts and busy staring at the ground, I'm caught off guard by a sudden outreach of thick arms and run face-first into a wall of muscle.

"Ivy?" comes a British accent. "What's going on?"

Squeezing my eyes tight and keeping my head down, I try to force the tears back in. But, to my best efforts, they just don't go back in.

I shake my head, trying to push past him to open my car door.

"Ivy," he says, blocking my way. I feel his hand under my chin, pulling me face up towards him. Though his face is covered, his eyes seem to soften at my teary eyes and red nose. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I say, trying to push past him again. This time, he grabs onto my arms. I sigh as he stares me down. "Our cyber chief basically said I was a weak girl who couldn't do my job right," I say, lowering my eyes to Ghost's chest as I make the admission.

"What?" he asks, his voice changing.

"He saw I was staying late, and he said that I must not be very good if I have to stay late all the time. Then he said I was a young girl that was working on the easy stuff..." I trail off, embarrassed to say the next part. "He told me to stick to my bitch job while he did big boy stuff."

Again, Ghost puts a finger under my chin. I notice that lack of gloves, and find the skin-to-skin contact unsettling.

"None of that is true," he says, and when I look away, his fingers wrap around my jaw to keep my face in place. "Ivy."

A tear runs down my cheek, and I flush red at how awkward all of this is.

"That man is a bloody idiot," he says. "You are strong, capable, and obviously smart. Do not let what he said get to you because I know for a fact he fucks around in his office all day. You're the one getting shit done, and you're the one actually in charge there."

I struggle to believe his words, but find the reassurance a bit helpful.

"Who was it again?" Ghost asks, the same tone from earlier reemerging.

"Chief Harlow," I say.

"Ah," he says, releasing my chin. "Okay."

He drops my arms. "Can you get home and run yourself a bath to relax?"

I nod. "Yeah," I say, sniffling.

"Alright then," he says, opening my car door for me. "Text if you need anything."

He knows that I won't, but I appreciate the gesture.

As I start to drive away, I don't look back.