(technically;)
technically this is mutual part zero haha
Stalker!Ghost x F!Reader
Ghost stayed still, even as the hard edges of the binoculars had begun to hurt against his eye sockets.
He had been lying on his stomach since sunset; his bottle of water sits half empty, the long devoured packet of jerky sat in his jacket pocket, and yet you still haven’t moved from your desk. Your posture had stayed shrimp-like for the last six hours, and he knows your water bottle had been empty two hours in. Numerous times now he’s seen you pick it up, try to sip, and look mildly annoyed at it before going back to what you were doing.
“At least sit the fuck up, love.” He couldn’t help but mumble underneath his breath.
The wind changed directions and the smell of spiced meats drew his attention. It’s not lost to him that you haven’t eaten nor went to the bathroom the whole time he was there. And remembering your schedule, he doesn’t think you‘ve had anything since lunch.
He checked his watch. The shop opens until three, but the chance of you eating a strange meal left at your doorstep after midnight dwindles by a lot—not that it had that high of a probability in the first place—so downstairs he went.
Simply putting up two fingers and saying two, please at the cashier made him giddy. He could feel his mask’s string stretch and tug at his ear as he smiled at the implication it brought.
By the time he got back to his perch, you had stared out the window, looking down at the street.
The binoculars quickly sits back on the reddened notch it had made on the bridge on his nose, the painful action rewards him with catching a glimpse of your smile before you turn your head. His heart hammered in his chest at the thought of you accepting his gift rather easily, and seeing you tear open the sauce packet—that he previously held in his hands—with your teeth made him feel warmer underneath his layers of clothing. He rips open the paper covering the food the same time you do.
A tiny voice of anxiety behind his conscious thoughts whispers of you being too careless and trusting, but at this very moment he was too distracted by his success to listen.
Technically you’re having dinner together.