Hold On (Ghost x reader)

7 - tension

"I'm going to take a shower first," I start to head on into the bathroom but turn around to tell Simon that he can help himself to a snack, and notice that he is already looking at me. Well, at my ass, that is. The dress is doing wonders.
He realizes that I caught him staring, and he quickly looks away. The damage had been done, and we both know this.

"Simon—"
"No."

I raise my hands in surrender, not wanting to make this even more awkward than it already is.
I walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me. I finally get a good look at myself in the mirror and see a nasty bruise forming on my jaw. Unmistakable, purplish-red fingerprints on it. It's going to look even worse in a couple of days. I touch it gently, but wince at the pain. I didn't think it was even possible to get a bruise from something like that. Then again, Makarov was very rough. Curse that man. I shake my head, trying to forget what happened for my own sake. I take off the dress and throw it into the basket for dirty clothes.

I start the shower and get in, letting the warm water trickle down my tired muscles. I sigh at the sensation, feeling like I'm floating. I wash my hair and body thoroughly and get out of the shower. I squeeze the remaining water from my hair into a towel and realize something. I didn't take my set of fresh pyjamas with me. I groan—should I just go out there in a towel or ask for Simon to bring them to me?

I hold the towel loosely wrapped around my body and peek my head out of the bathroom. I notice Simon sitting on the couch, his head leaned back, his legs spread. What a sight.

"Simon?"

His head rises to look at me. He looks a little groggy, perhaps he was napping. My 'everything' showers take quite a long time, and it's around 2 AM, so I can't blame him for having some shuteye.

"Can you please bring me some pyjamas? They're in my bedroom."

He gets up from the couch with a sigh and does as I ask.

–––––––––––––––––––

In the dimly lit bathroom, steam swirled around her as she stood, wrapped in a towel, her skin still warm from the shower. She can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The hot water from the shower had left her skin tingling, and her thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions as she waits for Simon to arrive with the clean pyjamas she had asked for.

Y/N is startled by a knock on the door, and Simon's gruff voice:

"I have 'em."

She opens the door, her hand slightly shaking unbeknownst to her. She sees the pyjamas in his hand, and her gaze flows up to see him staring intently at her. He is mesmerized by the way her wet hair sticks to her face and neck, how drops of water glistened on her collarbone, tracing a path down her smooth skin, and how flushed her skin is after the hot shower. He wonders to himself if he could make her blush like that while he pleasured her.

She looks back down at her pyjamas shyly, her heart palpitating in her chest at the sudden attraction she feels towards the man. The said man, however, notices the nasty bruise forming on her jaw and quickly regains his cool, throwing the lewd thoughts he had about her into a dungeon deep within his mind, and locking it up. His past will not let him indulge in the pleasures she could provide–he could never ruin her like that. She deserves better.

"Thank you, Simon," she says softly, his name leaving her lips making him feel something he would rather not mention.

He does not say anything, afraid his words will betray him, and closes the door to the bathroom, leaving Y/N feeling rejected in some way. Although few words were exchanged between them, they still knew. They knew what they felt, but it could never happen.