Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

46. Alone again

Heavy panting wakes you up the next early morning.

Your head hurt like hell and you swore to yourself to never ever drink alcohol again (A promise you will definitely keep). Looking around, you could not find Simon, but you heard him.

What time is it anyways?

You look at the grey, tall walls and lie back down, listening to his heavy breathing somewhere in the distance.

Where the fuck is he?

“Simon?!” you call out, pulling the pillow above your head since he did not respond to that but the thumping noise coming from him buzzed through your irritated head.

You grunt and get up angrily, stomping around the bed and into the open, living space. With the loft illuminated you could make out way more of his interior, if you could even call it that.

It was pretty bland but you could make out a massive desk positioned in a corner, some papers scattered on top but that’s about it.

There was a long leather sofa, similar to yours but his was black and looked squeaky clean and brand new.

No television, no entertainment system, no decorations.

A small, plain coffee table with a glass of water on it.

You were getting closer to the mystery himself, you could tell.

Looking around, you now checked out the kitchen space which was kept to a minimum as well except for a massive, luxurious fridge. You could only dream of such a…machine. It looked like a goddamn spaceship. On the counter you saw 2 banana peels and a knife. Mhm.

You walked barefoot along the cold, grey floor. It must be some kind of stone flooring, you hated it. No carpets whatsoever in near sight. Your feet patting along quickly to avoid the freezing sensation.

Peeking around the corner you finally saw him. He was doing sit ups on a mat placed on the floor. That part of his loft was the most furnitured one, his personal gym. Of course.

You watched him struggle but pushing through with his exercise. His phone was next to him on the floor and you saw that he’s wearing earbuds.

What kind of music is he listening to?

He grunted one final time as he sat up and huffed, his chest moving significantly. He didn’t see you yet, so you stood there watching. It was like watching a wild animal in it’s natural habitat. A side you never saw of him.

He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black tanktop. His muscles were pulsing and defined, sweat glistening on his skin.

What an absolute unit of a man.

Next he got up and took a jumping rope, shaking his arms to release tension before starting to spin it and jump. You now got a good look of his back, the fabric of his top was drenched.

You haven’t even noticed how wet it made you, watching him work out. You squeezed your thighs together and thought about what to do. Disturb him? Try to seduce him? It felt wrong. You wanted to take his morning routine serious.

Should you just go shower? Sounds like the better plan. Just a few more minutes of watching…

You peeked again, hearing his breathing turn heavier by the second and some grunts leaving his mouth. Once he finishes this round, he puts the rope aside and turns around, his eyes staring right at you. Fuck.

“Well good morning to you too.” He pants raspily, taking one of his earbuds out.

“Mornin’…You woke me.” You said quietly. You stood far away from him but still you could smell the sweat coming from his body.