Part Twelve: The Truth

                                    

                                          
"You alright?" Ghost asks with...concern? Wait—
Why does he keep asking me that?
"Yeah," I say quietly.
What do you say after someone you barely know, whom you barely like, finger fucks you? 
Ugh, I'm bad at this...
I get up from the couch and put my pants back on.
He's staring again.
I start walking towards my kitchen.
"Coffee?" I ask over my shoulder.
"Tea."
Of course. 
I start heating the pot.
A few moments of silence pass. 
"You really think you'll be able to handle this mission?" Ghost asks me from across the room.
What did he just ask me?
"Insinuating what? That you don't think I can handle it?" I scoff, already on the defensive. 
"I'm not sure if you can," he deadpans.
Excuse me?
"Oh really?" I laugh, baffled. "And why not?"
I cross my arms tightly.
"You're sensitive," he puts quite bluntly.
You're sensitive. I feel the words hit me like a slap across the face. 
My stepfather used to call me sensitive for crying after he was finished with me. 
"Listen I don't need this," I growl. I feel my face getting warm and my body getting tense. "How are you going to finger fuck me and then insult me?" I raise my voice.
I'm losing it.
"This is why I don't think you'll be able to handle it. You can't even handle your own emotions." His voice remains steady, but his tone is harsh—angry. 
Piece of shit. He has no idea what I can and cannot handle. 
"You started this!" I throw my hands up.
"That doesn't matter. You're reactive, impulsive, and emotional," he growls.
"Fuck you, you fucking asshole!" I yell and storm toward the door but Ghost grabs my arm, halting me.
"Let. Go. Now." I seethe, trying to pull away from him. His grip is too right, and he's too strong.
Panic starts to arise in me.
"Calm down," he says firmly but also softly. He looks me right in the eyes.
Normally his eyes are cold, constantly assessing, but there's a hint of empathy in them now. 
He releases my arm.
"Listen. I didn't say that to insult you. I was asking you genuinely. You can't be ignorant of the fact that you struggle to manage your emotions. As a colleague, I'm asking you if you genuinely think you can handle the pressure of this mission. Because if you can't things can go very badly, very quickly,"'Ghost says in earnest.
I-I don't know if I can...shit, he's in my head.
I don't like this. 
"You should leave," I say coldly, distantly.
Ghost stands silently.
"I said you should leave," I say a bit louder. Impatience is growing in my tone.