Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

68. A Pearl is to be protected

The next morning was spent hanging onto each others lips. Literally.

After last nights confession, you woke up feeling like a teenager. The feeling of waking up after you've had one too many drinks at some houseparty, regretting everything you might or might not have said the night before.

Classic hangxiety.

You could barely bring yourself to turn around and look at Simon, his solid arm still wrapped around you, so when you did it was to your surprise to see him lying there already awake. His blank expression staring up at the ceiling. Those blonde lashes of his fluttering for a short second before his cold gaze shifted to look at your puffy, hungover morning face. You swallowed hard before a timid, quiet "Good morning..." left your lips, just as if it's testing the water. Like your words have to get used to him all over again. Not knowing if maybe, yesterday was only a product of the hard liquor you've had after all.

His eyes soften at the sound of your voice, his gaze switching between yours before he leans forward and places a kiss on your parted lips. Adding another one. And a third one.

"Mornin', princess."

And just like that, the kissing olympics began. You snaked your bare leg around his firm thigh, his leg hair tickling you slightly as his large hand grabbed ahold of your calf to fixate you on him.

Everything about this man was warm. You melted at his touch and the way those skilled hands of his would always find ways to caress you effortlessly. Maybe it wasn't even the way he was using them but simply the fact it was him who was touching you.

You came to the conclusion that yesterday really did happen. And there was nothing to regret.

"Won't you wake up?" you giggle after heaving yourself fully on top of him, resting your hands on his broad chest.

Ghost only lets out a tired grunt, his lips tinted a light shade of red from all the smooching seconds ago, as he looks over to his alarm. It's 8 in the morning.

He rests his arm above his eyes, huffing at the incoming headache from yesterday's booze.

You're carefully eyeing his 1-week stubble, down to where your hands are placed on his chest. His nipples peeking through the fabric of his shirt, the slight dents of where his abs begin. Back up to his face where his mouth was slightly ajar now. Is he falling back asleep?

"Now come on, big boy..." you tug on his top. In response, 2 huge arms wrap around you and pull you close in such a tight manner that there's no point in trying to flee, his iron grip well-known to you by now.

"How are you so jolly this early mornin'... Weren't you the first one to be absolutely plastered yesterday?" the hungover Brit whispers, his voice hoarse and stained with a hint of irritation.

"Wasn't just me..." you scoff, kissing his neck which gets the faintest of groans out of him.

He looks back at the clock, his mind starting to become hazy with all work-related matters he has to deal with in the next couple of days. Preparations that will lead to him leaving you behind again for a few weeks. Maybe months. He felt his heart ache just thinking about it. Those new emotions he just unlocked... Knowing about your security, seeing you. All this time he wanted you to be safe, hoped that you're doing alright in the time that he can't watch over you. After yesterday, it now turned into a necessity for him.

Having lost everyone that he loved in traumatic ways, he now had to know for certain that you're safe.

It can't happen another time.