Sweet Dreams: Collection of Imagines and Short Stories

"Haunted Hearts"

Inspired By💚:

The house was eerily quiet, save for the muffled sound of heavy boots hitting the wooden floor. Simon "Ghost" Riley trudged through the dimly lit hallway, his shoulders hunched under the weight of an invisible burden. You were sitting in the living room and noticed the tension radiating from him as soon as he entered. It had been like this since he returned from his last mission—every day a battlefield of its own.

"Simon, we need to talk," you said, voice steady but laced with worry.

He halted, his back to you. "Not now."

"No, we need to talk now. You've been shutting me out since you got back. It's like you're not even here."

Simon turned slowly, his eyes hard and unyielding behind the mask of his stoic expression. "Maybe I don't want to be here," he snapped.

You flinched at his harsh words but stood your ground. "Don't say that. You don't mean it."

"Don't tell me what I mean," he growled, stepping closer, fists clenching at his sides.. "You have no idea what's going on in my head.."

"Then tell me! Let me in, Simon. I'm your wife, not some random stranger."

The living room was dimly lit, the flicker of candles casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air was thick with tension, and the silence was almost suffocating.

He laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that echoed through the room. "What? Do you think you can fix me? I don't need fixin' lass. Jus' leave it alright?"

Your head reared back as his words struck you. Mouth agape, you were at a loss for words. Simon saw the pain in your eyes. He sighed, shaking his head, and whispered, "Shit, love. I'm sorry. It's just–this isn't working."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to remain calm. "No. You don't get to run away. Not this time. This will not end like your last marriage. No disrespect to your previous wife, but you're not scaring me off that easily. I know you have demons. I know how hard it is to do the work you've done and still do. I know you're just lashing out of fear. You can be a ghost in the field. The strongest, baddest motherfucker out there. That's in the field. You do not get to be a ghost in this marriage. If you don't want to open up to me, fine, but you have got to give me something, Simon. I won't walk away from you. So don't run away from me. Please, I love you. I need you," you choked on a sob, fighting back tears that threatened to spill.

Simon's façade cracked, and his eyes flashed. First with anger and pain that quickly morphed into sadness and fear. "You don't understand. I can't... I can't give you what you want. I can't be the man you need. The husband you deserve."

You took a step closer, voice softening. "I don't need you to be perfect, Simon. I need you to be here with me. Be the man you've always been. Flaws and all, baby. Talk to me. Let me share your burden."

He turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You know that's not my style, love. I'm not a man of many words. My past—I can't go back there. Life before you. That shit is dark both family and career-related, lovie. I don't want to rehash it. Relive it. It's just the way I am, sweetheart. You deserve better than this. Better than me."

You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm. "I deserve the man I married. The man who loves me, even when he's hurting. I deserve you, Simon. And I'm staying."

Simon closed his eyes, the weight of your words sinking in. The two of you stood in silence, the tension palpable. Then, he slowly turned back to you, his expression weary but vulnerable.

"I don't know if I can do this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Whatever you feel works for you. That's what we'll do. Pushing me out of your life is not an option."

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him. "You don't have to do it alone. We'll figure it out together. One step at a time."

Simon's resolve crumbled, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice low and strained. "I'm so sorry."

You held him tighter, feeling the tension in his body. "It's okay, Simon. We'll get through this. I love you."

He nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of his gratitude and love. For the first time in weeks, he felt a glimmer of hope. Together, you could face whatever demons haunted him. Together, you could heal.

In the following days, Simon made a conscious effort to be more present. It wasn't a dramatic change, but small gestures showed his commitment: a touch on your shoulder, a moment of eye contact, an occasional shared laugh.

One evening, as you both sat quietly in the living room, Simon spoke softly, "I've started seeing someone. To talk. About everything."

You looked at him, surprised but relieved. "That's good, Simon. Really good."

He nodded, his expression serious. "It's not easy, but I want to try. For us."

You reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take it one step at a time."

There were still difficult days, but the atmosphere between you gradually lightened. You found comfort in small routines: sharing meals, walking together, sitting in companionable silence. Each day, Simon opened up a little more, and you felt the connection between you slowly strengthen.

One night, as you lay in bed, Simon turned to you, his voice a murmur in the dark. "Thank you for sticking with me."

You smiled softly, reaching out to brush your fingers through his hair. "We're in this together, Simon. Always."

With that understanding, you both settled into a more peaceful sleep, knowing that the journey ahead would be challenging but manageable, as long as you faced it side by side.

Votes and comments are greatly appreciated love bugs💚.