Ghost One Shots | FemReader

TEARS

You put your head beneath the surface, feeling your hair become weightless. Sudden nostalgia reminded you of how you used to pretend to be a mermaid when you were little.

Tears, do they just disappear when you're underwater?

You kept lying to yourself, unsure what else there was to do. If you could be somebody else, you would, for him. Right? You had tried and tried but it felt impossible. Impossible to control his temper, impossible to hide yours, impossible to breathe around him, impossible to conceal the sadness which ate you alive.

"We can't work without talking, you know?"

Talking. A few words was all it would take.

Help. Help me.

But instead you told him the job was the job, and he was the fling. The person who kept you warm. Bigger things mattered here.

"Didn't it seem like a little more than that?"

Oh, Simon. Yes. It was. Help me.

Silence. And he avoided you. The heartache became agonising, consuming. When you parted ways for leave, you looked back. He never even glanced over his shoulder.

At night it filled your head, your nostrils, your ears. Everything you had done.

But you pushed him away. You.

So all it would take would be one big inhale. They would never know, never understand why. Two empty bottles of wine on the floor beside you. Your soaked clothes anchoring you down against the porcelain.

A burning sensation began in your lungs as your brain held onto the shreds of panic preventing you from giving up. He read your text, but he never responded.

Help me.

Eyes filled with stars. Lips parted, finally ready.

Then something disturbed the water, hands wrapping your back, dragging you out. You gasped for air, gulping at it desperately. Those ragged screams, tearful wrenching moans which filled the room were coming from your mouth.

And he spoke, that familiar voice, those familiar calloused hands.

"I'm here, baby. I'm here."