Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

52. Your smell. Your taste.

There wasn’t much to do at Ghost’s place, since he kept it pretty minimalistic. He had no TV, no music device of some sort, no games… His interior was simple. Plain basics.

As you went to go fix him a cup of tea, you allowed yourself to peek through his cupboards. You weren’t really surprised to find a rather big & well organized tea variety. Multiple different cans to brew specific kinds of it too. He must know a lot about tea.

He asked for a “Mint one that’s stored in a black box”, which you found immediately. You opened it and took a good sniff, trying to see if you could smell what makes this one so different from other peppermint teas, but you couldn’t tell the difference really. To you it smelt like just that: Peppermint. No fancy notes or other accords you could make out. Just. Peppermint.

You put the box onto the granite countertop and checked the next cupboard, containing a few plates & bowls. They were all black. His whole loft in general had a rather dark colourway.
A lot of grey and black shades, like some kind of cave, which matched him though. You didn’t really expect anything different. Hard to imagine this man sitting in a room with bright green painted walls and resting his feet on a fuzzy brown carpet or something.

Opening the next one, you find his cups. There were only 4 and the rest of the cupboard had lots of empty space. You took one of the 4 identical ones and prepared the tea.

You kind of frowned at the fact you didn’t find anything super personal or crazy.

While the tea was now brewing, you went to check his fridge. See what a Ghost’s groceries look like. You stepped over to the absolute unit of a fridge and opened the door, finding: Nothing. Literally. You shook your head in confusion before remembering that this man was on the field for an unknown amount of time, so it made sense that his fridge was kept empty. As you closed the door and heard a strong accent roar behind you, you jumped.

“Snoopin’ around are we…”, you turn around to see his big figure making his way to you, using crutches.

“SIMON, you’re not supposed to use them yet! Nurse said wheelchair only!”

“Agh, it’s fine. I’m in my house so I’m gonna use what I want to.” he utters, eyeing the tea and slowly limping over to you.

“I don’t think you…Should. Really.” You say worried.

“How long has it been brewing now?” he asks, motioning to his cup on the counter.

“Uhm like…2 minutes maybe?” you stutter.

He nods and grunts as he gets closer to you.

“Simon I’ll bring it to your bed, it’s okay.”

“Can bring it myself.” he grumbles, trying to fix himself on the crutches as it was starting to get uncomfortable for him.

“Really? I’d like to see that.” You mock him, catching a sinister glare.

“Watch this.” he breathes out, getting rid of one crutch to take out the tea infusor and grab the cup. He needs a few seconds to think about his next step, before he starts on his journey back to the bedroom, pulling his right foot after him since the right side was the most damaged one, which still caused him a tremendous amount of pain in the other leg though. The whole thing looked really worrisome, like he’s gonna fall any second.

“Simon I…Ugh..” you couldn’t continue to watch him struggle on his way back, walking past him to grab the cup and enter the bedroom area, sitting down on the bed & waiting for him. He got out the second crutch from under his armpit now & hurried to you, relieved that he could lie down again.