Your Addiction, Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Living in memories

[a/n] Yes, I am delusional, that's why I recommend listening to "Fade into you" by Mazzy Star.

...

As they approached the house, Soap noticed that it looked a bit unkempt as the yard grass was overgrown.

Inside, the house was dimly lit, and Soap could see piles of clutter scattered around the living room. But what really caught his attention was the mess in the kitchen. Dishes and other pieces of furniture were strewn across the room, and there was broken glass on the floor.

"I had a bit of an episode the other day" Simon said after noticing Soap's expression.

"Oh, I thought it was Foap" Soap tried to lighten up the mood as he realised how much Simon was suffering.

"I'll take care of it later"

"No worries" Soap replied, walking carefully to avoid hurting himself.

"Would you like some tea?" Simon felt uneasy offering Soap a drink but he wanted to take a break from all the pain.

"Fuckin' Brits" He murmured to himself but agreed to have some.

Simon then began boiling the water, trying to recall my recipe for making the best tea.

He remembered the way I used to make it for him, the way I hummed along to the music playing in the kitchen as I prepared it. Simon remembered my laughter, warmth and he smiled to himself while bittersweet memories of me flooded his mind.

Simon thought back to the way I would carefully place the cup in his hands, watching him take a sip and the way his eyes lit up when he tasted it just the way he liked it.

After a few minutes, he poured hot water into two mugs and added some tea bags. Then, he walked back to the living room and handed the cup to Soap.

Simon and Soap sat in silence for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. The only sound in the room was the steady ticking of a clock on the wall and the soft sipping of tea.

"The team misses you, Simon" Soap finally found the courage to start a conversation.

"I'm not coming back"

"You can't shut yourse-"

"I can't spend my life in a place where she felt unhappy. I want to be where she was at peace" Simon explained, his voice tinged with sadness.

There was a moment of silence as Simon's words sunk in.

"I miss her too, Simon" Soap finally spoke up.

"I still remember how we used to joke around. It was always so much fun. Even now I can't believe all of that is over" Tears started to well up in Soap's eyes.

"But she promised to come back, didn't she?"

"She is not coming back, Soap" Simon looked down, feeling defeated.

"But we never found her"

"She is not coming back" Secretly, Simon was hoping for my return, but he knew it would never happen.

Soap sighed deeply and turned away, his heart heavy and his eyes wet. He just couldn't shake off the image of me lying there, slowly being consumed by death.

In fact, the past few weeks had been so painful, Soap even forgot I wasn't alive anymore. There were times when he would wait for my laughter after telling a joke. But the truth was, Soap felt overwhelming guilt as he couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for my death. Every time he thought about the incident, his stomach twisted into knots because he knew he had made a mistake, and the consequences of his actions haunted him every day.

But sometimes he would think I had finally gotten my dream life after leaving task 1-4-1. There were times when he believed I had gone on a long long trip but then, all of a sudden, he would remember the truth. And while I disappeared like smoke, I lived on in his head.

Simon, on the other hand, was still trapped in the same endless cycle. He wouldn't eat, and if he did, his food would taste like acid. He kept making meals for two, even though it was eaten by one. He would sit at the table and talk to the empty chair, pretending I was there with him.

The truth was, my death affected him more than anything else. I was the one who showed him love, I was the one who healed him. He had lost his light and his hope, the only thing that made him feel human.

And every day he had to face it alone.

At times, he would go outside and look up at the stars and imagine me up there, shining like one of them. It was comforting for him to think I was still out there somewhere. He was sure that I was watching over him and he felt relief in thinking that I was in a better place, that I was finally happy.

As the days passed, Simon was drawn more and more to my tombstone. It became the only place where he could feel some sort of connection to me. Every single day, he would make his way there, often visiting multiple times throughout the day, and simply sitting in peaceful silence.

At first, he talked to me, telling me about his day, his feelings, and his regrets. He would share stories of our time, recalling our happiest moments and the things we used to do. But over time, he found that mere words could not describe his sorrow.

So he would just sit there, lost in a sea of thoughts, filled with memories of me. Sometimes, he would bring a book to read, but his mind would start to wander, and he couldn't focus on the words.

He would go to the shore whenever he needed to clear his mind. It was the place where we spent so much time together, where we laughed and played and dreamed of the future. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the salty smell of the ocean, and the cool breeze that brushed against his face - everything reminded him of me.

He would sit on the same rock where we used to sit, watching the ocean and listening to the seagulls cry. Sometimes he would close his eyes and imagine that I was there beside him, holding his hand. Other times, he would walk along the shore, picking up shells and stones and tossing them into the water, as we used to do.

And so, that chapter in his life was nowhere near the end because he continued to dream of seeing me again.

Of giving me the life I always wanted.