The Girl In Flat 25 (Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader)

Chapter 3: Stairwell

9:17 pm, November 14th.

You rubbed furiously at your eyes, the tears there spilling down your face like a river. A stuttered sob echoed slightly in the stairwell.

   Your job was stressful today, the dinner rush was a nightmare, and at least three people felt the need to let loose their opinions on how rushed you were and none of them were nice. You hated dinner rush.

You needed a new job, you finally decided. Your hands still wiping the warm, salty tears from your face.

Simon paused mid-step, his bag of groceries held tightly in his hand.

Oh God, not now. Not you.

He couldn't handle another one of your chatting sessions, he had been roped into three in the past week, and he was socially drained from you and MacTavish constantly asking him questions. Maybe he should introduce you two, you'd probably get along great.

Continuing his path up the stairs he paused when he saw you, he stood on the landing leading up to the third floor watching you cautiously. You were a mess, hair undone and clothes covered in food stains, head hung low as you wept openly in the staircase.

He could always go back downstairs, take the elevator the third floor and bypass you altogether. Or maybe you wouldn't notice him? You weren't the most observant.

He exhaled and took his chance, feet pushing him forward.

Your head snapped up and he paused.

You stared for a while before you quickly stood and wiped your face, trying to hide that you were just crying.

"Simon! Need help?" You smiled and took a step down, hand reaching out as an offer take a bag from him.

"No."

Charming as always.

He carried on, brushing your arm in the narrow stairway.

You sighed and turned around to watch him continue up the stairs, noticing the scent of his cologne hung around you.

"You smell nice." You followed him, leaning on the wall next to his door, staring at him as he cycled through his keys, "Do you always forget what key it is?"

You had watched him do this three times this week.

"Does it matter?" He decided to ignore the comment on his scent, he didn't want to make it seem like you two were friends or even friendly.

You scoffed, fingers gently flicking his away before you took his keys and slotted one in, clicking the door unlocked.

He turned his head to you and you smiled again. He was a handsome man, the little of his face that you had seen. Dark hair and blue eyes. He always wore a facemask to cover the lower part of his face, but you understood why. Or you thought you did.

Eventually he broke the silence, "Do you not know personal space?"

"No."

He blinked slowly.

"I can tell." His eyes flickered downward, looking at the large stain of... Pasta sauce? That covered your white shirt. Or soup. Shitty soup, if so. "Nice shirt."

Your face heated in embarrassment.

"It was... A rough day at work." You said in earnest, hands wringing together.

He blinked again, his way of saying 'I didn't ask'.

Your lips pressed together as you stood straight and took a few good steps back, "I'll leave you to it, Simon."

He watched as you walked into your flat, disappearing beyond the doorframe.

He felt a little bad.

Not a lot, mind you. He didn't really care, at least not a lot. But something about you made him feel guilty. You were so naïve and bubbly, almost sickeningly so.

Didn't matter. He had shopping to put away.

3:47 am, November 15th.

The night chill held tightly around you, the twinkling string lights on your balcony set the area alight with a soft warm glow. Your blanket hugged tightly around you, your chin resting on the palm of your hand as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone.

The noise of Simon's sliding door opening caught your attention, his large figure shuffling outside into the cold outside.

He was dressed in casual sweats, his dark hoodie holding tightly to his arms. He looked comfy. He had definitely just woken up, hair tousled and clothes slightly messy.

He looked in your direction, slightly surprised to see you awake this late. Normally he heard you come home and go to sleep pretty much immediately. It was much passed your bedtime.

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer." You broke the silence.

He merely nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"What was with the waterworks in the stairwell earlier?" You frowned at his question, why was he asking?

"Rough day at work..." Your eyes went back to staring at your phone, pausing momentarily to type something out.

"What happened?" Why was he asking?

You sighed.

"Simon, do you care?"

"No." He paused, thinking his next words out carefully, "My... Friend told me I was being rude."

Your face relaxed and you slouched down a little more. "My coworker quit just as dinner rush started, and it was just me and a busy restaurant waiting tables alone. I got yelled at by some stupid bi-"

"I didn't know you worked at a restaurant."

"You never talk to me."

That's true.

Most of your 'conversations' with Simon were entirely one-sided as he stood on his balcony and smoked or drank his tea, you talking endlessly while he zoned you out, commenting occasionally.

"You have friends. Why do you insist on talking to me?" He sighed a little, head tilting to look at the street below.

Nothing but drunk people.

"I..." You paused, "I don't know. Maybe because you're my neighbour? I would like to get to know you."

His eyebrows raised slightly, fingers lacing together as he readjusted to get comfortable, the chair below him squeaking a little in protest.

Why would you want to know him?

What was there to know?

"Don't hold your breath."

"I didn't plan on it."

This is the curtest you had been with him, ever.

"I'm going to bed." You stood, grabbing your blanket as you moved to go inside, "Goodnight, Simon."

He watched as you left, leaving him alone.

___

Not my favourite chapter, things will hopefully get better when I've had sleep lol