𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 | Ghost Fanfic | minihater

10

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I awoke once more in Simons large bed. The pain that ached my head thankfully was gone. I get up out of the bed, peeking around the corner of his room where the bathroom was. It was large, had a double shower, and gold accents were dispersed all along parts of the bathroom; Gold faucets, shower rims, etc.

The house was quiet, the only sound being birds chirping outside and the wind whistling through the tree leaves. I head out of his bedroom, being in the hallway of his room i'd never been before.

A long console contributed to most of the hallway's decoration, a large gold medieval stenciled mirror above it. His sister must've been a professional interior designer.

Trailing to the part of the home I was familiar with, I grab a set of clothes taking it to the bathroom with me for a shower. Subsequently, after changing into new clothes, black leggings and a matching plain black tee.

Checking my phone, two new messages lied on the lock-screen from 'Blair'. I hadn't remembered giving her my number, although I couldn't remember much from last night at all.

there's a party tomorrow night, if you wanna come?

i can pick you up

I respond with a friendly sure, then scrolling through my phone a bit. I've noticed my messages with Genevieve had turned green, meaning either her phone was off, or she blocked me. Neither of which made much sense.

But this left a pit in my stomach.

After a bit of relaxing on the couch on my phone, the creek of the front door instinctively made me turn around. Simon adjusted his balaclava as he walked in, shutting the door behind himself.

"Hi." I greet him with a smile.

"Hey." He approaches the back of the couch, handing me a plastic shopping bag.

Inside the bag was a red box of dark chocolates.

"I heard they make headaches go away..." He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck,
awkwardly.

I'd never heard this before but the gesture was cute anyways.

"Aww, thank you." I open the box, popping one into my mouth.

He doesn't reply, instead reaches over me for the remote, switching the television on. He heads over to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of beer from the refrigerator.

"How was your day?" I follow him, sitting on the bar stool, across from him.

"Fine. Yours?" He lifts up the bottom of his balaclava revealing his pink lips and brunette stubble. He flicks the top off of the beer, taking a sip of it.

"It was okay." I tilt my head in admiration, barely even realizing that I hadn't seen much of his face before.

"Hear from your friend yet?" He holds a grip on the top of the blue beer bottle.

"No.." I sigh.

He shifts his weight between each leg, seemingly agonizing.

"I'm sure she's fine, Y/N" He lowers his tone, aiming to be comforting.

Hoping he was right, I began to attempt to think positively, changing the topic.

"Blair invited me to a party tomorrow night." I claim.

"Aren't you a bit old for parties?" He remarks, taking another sip of his beer.

"What? No!"

He chuckles.

"You need a ride?" He offers, lifting his left sleeve up to read the time on his watch. This revealed his tattoo sleeve.

"She said she'll give me one, but you should come anyways." I suggest, spinning around on the bar stool.

"Is Soap going?" He inhales.

"I'm not sure."

"Mhm... I don't know." He replies, lacking confidence.

"Think about it." I pressure him, simply because I wanted him to come with me.

He leans over the island counter, locking eyes with me, a bored expression upon his face. No matter how hard he tried to act uninterested, he somehow made it evident that this was all for show.

"You have really pretty eyes, do you know that?" I admit, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

"Yeah?" He looked amused, something from him I hadn't seen yet.

I nod.

"You do too." He breaks eye contact, nervously, standing to his full height now.

"Thank you."

A wave a silence pervaded the room, and a hint of tension. I played with my fingers thinking of something to say next.

Throughout the silence, it seemed like the television volume had increased, streaming a local news channel.

"This just in on this foggy night in London, human remains found in a trash-bag, behind Whole Foods on 20 Glasshouse Street. The Grocery store is now closed for further investigation, although no more information has yet emerged." The news lady spoke, holding the microphone in her grip.

I felt sick, taking a peek to Simon who stared at the television. He quickly redirects his attention to me.

"Don't think like that... This happens a-lot here. It could be anyone." He attempts to dispel my fears.

I couldn't bring myself to say anything. In my head I kept repeating that it wasn't her. Maybe he's right.

He leans over the counter, eye-gazing with me.

"She's okay." He repeats, slower, holding his gaze with me until I nodded in agreement.

He uses his middle and index finger to lift my chin up.

"Get some rest, it's getting late."

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