Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

66. All boozed up

Ms. Meyer was a sweet, elderly lady.

She owned the house 2 rows down from Simon’s, just across the street. On your way over he’d tell you that she’s been living there ever since she was a child herself, that’s also what it looked like once you were inside.

Kitsch, clutter, you name it.

And this was just her corridor so far.

She greeted Simon by ruffling his hair, which looked odd enough considering that the man himself is 2 heads taller than her. He even bowed down for her so that she could reach it.

It must be for old times’ sake, you thought to yourself.

After embracing you in a hug that was stronger than you’d expected it to be, she looked at you through her thick glasses and smiled, taking in all your features. You couldn’t help but smile back, her goggly eyes taking you in so heartwarmingly.

“Sit, sit. I’m just going to get the schnapps! Haven’t seen you in so long, little Simon. Enough reason to celebrate, eh?!” her frail voice disappeared as she snuck downstairs to her basement, leaving you eyeing Ghost in disbelief as you both sat down on the big dining table.

“Schnapps?” you giggle, watching him roll his eyes slightly.

“ ‘s tradition…Old dame could drink anyone under the table, I tell yer that much…”

Your eyes widen with respect.

“She’s got class!” you gasped.

He rubs his thighs awkwardly before getting up.

“Better help where I can.” He says, heading downstairs as well. Your eyes follow his figure, he’s wearing a pair of jeans and a black, cotton longsleeve. For this occasion he did not wear a mask and you could tell that he was not used to it, avoiding eye-contact and seemingly more alert than usual. Once he disappeared you could hear their thick accents chatter, bottles clinking. This given opportunity letting you roam around her living space, there was enough to look at anyways.

Be it the photos hanging on the wall, a remarkable collection of flower vases or the small assortment of tiny elephant figurines above her fireplace.

Stepping closer to one certain photo, you scoff at the sight of what seems to be a shy baby boy Riley, next to what you guessed to be his Mother. Certain that it’s him, his dark and skeptical eyes catching your attention right away.

Plus, like you’ve once already guessed, he did have freckles.

Score.

You hear them coming back upstairs so you turn around to see Simon carrying a big, dusty bottle of liquor. He called something out to the woman appearing behind him which you could not make out since they were touching terrains of the mancunian accent you didn’t understand no matter how hard you tried.

Ms. Meyer laughed wholeheartedly behind him, clapping to signal you both to come and sit down on the table.

Simon walked up to you and took a glance at the photo wall himself, understanding why you’ve been peeking around as you excitedly point at the childhood photo of him.

“That you?!” you ask, a fat grin all across your face.

“Sure is.” He smirks, taking a good look at himself.

“Was not havin’ it that day. Look at what she put me in, good lord.” He scoffs, motioning to the tacky uniform he was wearing.

“Never knew that you could look so cute…” you purred, eyeing the photo one last time before heading back to the table, getting another scoff out of him.