I Fear Myself More Than I Fear You

Without Words

Note: Yeah I know simon lived in a little red house, but making him and the reader more close range /apartment building/ seemed easier for me)

Loud, loud, loud. Screaming. Whispers, quiet and soft and growing. Pulsating. In. Out. Everywhere.
Scattered.
Stop.
Stop.
STOP!
Why won't it stop...

Simon rubbed his temples. His eyes throbbing in his skull. He drowned out the loud thoughts with his music. Fully blasted in each ear.

He tried to keep his attention on the passing trees and the cold rain droplets slipping down the window. He loved weather like this. The way the sky would darken and weep as he had done many times before.
The train swayed with the wind. Abruptly stopping occasionally.

He checked the clock on his small phone. Yeah, maybe a half hour or so till he reached his destination.

He planned on returning to Kirkville, his hometown, to see his beloved mother one last time.

He slid his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie, gently grazing his blade with his fingertips as well.
He stared down at his arm, ruffling his sleeve up revealing his wrist adorned with dark thick scars. He walked his fingertips against them.

'Im gonna make this go away..' he whispered to himself. He wanted the loudness in his brain to silence itself.

But in his own, self-dignified way. Not with the assistance of false pills and the drugs.

At least he gave himself peace with seeing his mother one last time.

For a while, the train was a bit overcrowded. His hair stood on end as he felt the many hot breaths and rhythmic beats of the bodies surrounding him.

He counted the droplets as they fell. 1, 4, 7, 9, 13, 16, 21... so on...

He felt the seat sink in beside him. He gulped and folded into himself. Avoiding all contact will the stranger.. that was surprisingly.. sweet smelling.
Like the mixture of honey and hint of cigarettes.

Simon could really go for a cigarette at the moment. It wasn't in his nature to socialize, especially with strangers. He glanced out the corner of his eye.

A girl, seemingly his age, sat next to him. Headphones embedded in her ears as well as him.
Her eyes shut calmly. Her chest would rise and fall, like she was sleeping.

Simon stared at her for a moment, a lump rising in his throat on whether or not to say something.

The tobacco scent she gave off was intoxicating to him. And damn it had been a while since he had one.

'make up your mind Henriksson..' he began to curse himself. 'you want a fucking cig or not?'

Slowly.. he bit his lip and tapped her shoulder gently.
Almost instantly her (e/c) eyes flew open and she removed her headphones.

"Yes?" she questioned looking him in his very dark stone like brown eyes

He stuttered, averting her gaze "I-I uh.. um..."
She raised an eyebrow.
Finally, he sighed deep and low, "You got any cigarettes?"

'nice going bud'

She flashed him a smirk and nodded. "Yeah, sure here ya go."

Digging out her pack from her pocket and giving him not one, but two little cancer sticks.
He was a bit flustered. "Wow.. Thank you." Simon gently took them from her hand.

She chuckled slightly, "No problem, I like being generous."
The corner of his lip tugged upward, a sideways smirk.

"So where you heading?" She turned her body towards him, giving all her attention.

He was a bit surprised she continued to conversate with him. But he attempted to conform and at least not be rude. After all, he just got a nice smoke for the night.

"Kirkville, going out to see my mother." He mumbled.

Her smile grew, "Oh yeah? My stop too. You live around the plaza?"

Simon nodded, slightly unraveling himself from the window. "Yes actually. The apartments there. Lived there my whole life."

"Hey same! I got settled on the bottom floor. How come I haven't seen you around?"
Simon shrugged and turned to the window again.

"I don't get out much.."

The girl gave Simon and sympathetic look. "Yeah me neither."

Silence filled the space between them for a moment. Painfully his head would soon start to shout again. So he decided to continue his perfect distraction from his self.

"I'm Simon. Henriksson." He awkwardly gestured his hand out to her. She didn't hesitate to shake it.

"(f/n), (l/n). It's nice to meet you."

The train halted suddenly, slightly throwing them forward.
Both stood and walked off the train, paying their tickets and stepping out of the platform.

..................................

They walked together towards the center of town. Not saying a word but oddly enjoying the company of each other. Sitting on the base of the fountain they kept a foot of space between them, Simon pulled out his little prize from his new companion.

He put the unfiltered cigarette between his chapped lips and patted himself down.
Pockets, hoodie, bag.
No lighter.

(name) shook her head slightly and snickered. "Here." she handed him her match book.

'what a doll' he thought

'way too good to me..'

He flicked out a match, its light bursting to life as he ignited his tobacco stick.

Inhale... ecstasy.. exhale.. pain relief.
"Damn.." Simon breathed.

"Nice huh?" (name) responded to his sigh. He smirked. genuinely smirked and nodded his head slowly.

He looked down at his hand with lidded eyes. His smokey treat resting on his dirty fingers.
'what a day..'

..............................................

(Alright Imma stop here, I hope you guys enjoyed this~ I just kinda spilled out words to make it sound decent. Good? Was it good? Im gonna keep writing. Fuel my obsession with this psychological mind fuck game!! <3 love you guys)