A Collection of Short Stories | Simon Riley "Ghost" x Reader

everything all at once: chapter 2

The muffled but rapidly approaching footsteps of Simon's boots grew closer and closer.

You braced yourself for the inevitable, the moment when Simon would cross the threshold and witness your raw vulnerability.

The apartment door crashed open, Simon's presence immediately filling the space.

"Y/N!" he shouted, his voice echoing the cocktail of emotions—fear, urgency, hope—welling up inside him.

The apartment was dimly lit, with only the soft glow from streetlights filtering through the curtains.

But Simon's eyes quickly caught the faint illumination seeping out from beneath the bathroom door.

Time seemed to slow for him, each second stretching out agonizingly as his heart raced.

His mind was a whirlwind, playing out a montage of possibilities—each one more harrowing than the last.

The undeniable fear of what he might find gripped him, yet alongside it was a steadfast resolve.

He knew he had to face whatever lay beyond, for you.

Swallowing hard, he approached the door.

With every step, the weight of anticipation grew heavier, pressing down on him.

Each heartbeat echoed his internal struggle, but there was no hesitation in his actions.

"Y/N," he whispered, more a plea than a call, as he gently placed his hand on the doorknob.

With a deep, steadying breath, he pushed the door open, steeling himself for whatever sight would meet his gaze.

As the door swung open, a stark contrast to the usually neat space greeted Simon.

Your bathroom, the one you meticulously kept in order, was a mess: medicine bottles were scattered on the counter, some tipped over with their contents spilled.

Beside them, a shaver was hastily half-taken apart, its sharp components exposed and shining ominously under the dim light. Wet footprints marked a path leading to the bathtub.

In the tub, you were almost completely submerged, the icy water enveloping you, making your clothes stick to your skin.

Strands of your hair clung wetly to your forehead, and your face was a mask of desolation.

Your eyes seemed distant, lost in the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts threatening to consume you.

Simon's attention was instantly drawn to the water.

He was washed over with a wave of relief, noticing the clear hue of the water, grateful for the absence of any shades of red that would indicate deeper harm.

The weight of the situation pulled Simon immediately to his knees beside the tub.

His face was a canvas of raw emotion: panic, concern, and sheer relief battling for dominance.
His eyes, usually so composed, now bore into yours, desperate for answers.

"Did you... did you take anything? Do anything?"
His voice was firm, edged with a sharpness.
It wasn't anger, but rather a dire need to understand, to assess the situation quickly.

For a fleeting moment, the overwhelming nature of everything silenced you.

But his searching gaze, filled with an agonizing blend of hope and dread, compelled an answer from you.

Turning your head weakly, you met his eyes, your own filled with tears that threatened to spill over.

You managed a faint shake of your head, your voice barely above a whisper but laden with a world of emotions, "No..."