SPECTER [Ghost FanFiction 18+]

IV| Ease into it

[Emilia Soranzo]

"I can't believe you're making me eat like this," I said, facing the back window on the car as I sat on the middle row of seats. "Your face can't be that bad, can it?"

He chuckled "It isn't, quite the opposite."

"Then why can't I see it? You think I'll fall for you instantly? That's cocky."

Ghost sighed "That would be awful, as I can only see you as a brat and I don't like brats."

I chuckled — it doesn't bother me, but only because he bought me hot cocoa and a couple pastries "Then what is it?"

"I'm working, and whenever I'm working my face must be hidden," his reasons are valid, so I won't bother him about it...not daily at least — I've got a feeling I'll be babysat by them for quite some time.

I hummed "What does my file say I do for work?" I inquired, curious.

"You're an art dealer, and you also work at an art gallery your fiancé's family owns," he replied in a tone that aimed to offend me. "Well-loved and respected by your peers, but I guess that has to do with—"

"It has nothing to do with that," I cleared. "I started working at the gallery a year before I met Carson; he has tried to convince me many times to allow him to gift me my own gallery, but I always say no."

"Why?" He scoffed "That's daft."

"I don't want to be a gallery director — discovering new talents has never been my passion and neither is dealing art. I do have fun, but they're not what I love."

"Then what do you love?" Ghost asked.

"Painting," I smiled. "I dream of my brush against the canvas and getting paint under my nails." My eyes focused on the window and — due to the little light outside and the turned on interior lights — I could see a blurred reflection of Ghost's face; only the silhouette of his profile: he has a Roman nose and pouty lips, and also medium-length hair that looks kinda curly and messy. I didn't mention it, because I wanted to keep on looking, maybe I'll get to distinguish more of him.

"Emilia?" He sounded tender, and I blushed. I had never heard my name said in a Manchester accent, not until yesterday.

"Yes?"

"Last night when I told you you were tipsy you reacted in a weird way, why?" He asked.

I scurried my mind to bring back the moment and it was quick to play in front of my eyes "Um, well, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable by being drunk around you. You didn't ask to take care of a brat, especially not one that gets drunk quite easily." That's not the actual reason, but as he keeps his secrets, I have mine as well.

Ghost hummed "All right, you can tell me the truth whenever you want."

I leaned my forehead on the backrest of the rest and let out a deep sigh "Have you ever had a problem with someone you love? Like a partner, I mean."

"You can look now," he said, but I didn't — I feel embarrassed, and it's not his fault. "And yeah, who hasn't?"

"I..." I shouldn't be telling him anything, because it's my business and Carson's "I shouldn't be telling you."

"I won't force you to tell me anything, Emi," he assured.

I looked at him over my shoulder with tears pooling in my eyes "Is my dad dead, Ghost?"

He didn't have his glasses on, so I could see his eyes and his thick brown eyebrows "He isn't, I promise." There's a scar or two peeking out of the scarf and beanie.