Phantom ~ [Simon Ghost Riley]

XX. The psychic staring effect

"-I.." I'm at a loss for words as he looks down at me. His eyes tell me he's surprised to see me here too.

"Are you okay?" he asks, one of his hands out in front of him.

"I uhh.. Yes," I stutter. "I couldn't sleep.."

He looks at me in silence before stepping aside. "Come in," he says, his voice low.

I hesitate, though I walk past him into his room. His bed is neatly made up. He clearly hadn't made use of it yet. There's a small table in his room. It's lit up by a soft yellow light that shines onto his notebook.

"You haven't slept?" I ask as I check my watch. The lit-up numbers tell me it's 4:16 am.

"Does that surprise you?" He asks as he closes the door behind him.

I chuckle. "No," I say as I sit down on his bed.

He keeps his position on the other side of the room, though he looks at me with an expression I can't quite place. He then steps towards me but keeps a safe distance between us as he stands in front of the bed.

"I'm sorry to bother you," I say.

"-Don't," he interrupts me with a slight shake of his head, "What did you think I was going to do when I opened up that door?"

I suppress a smile, looking down at my fingers as I fidget with one of my silver rings. It's the ring my brother used to wear. I quickly slide it back around my thumb, hoping to stop myself from thinking about him too much.

"Are you feeling sore?" he asks as he looks down at me. The sight of him in front of me reminds me of the time he towered over me in my own apartment.

"Yeah," I say as I reach for the low collar of my sweater to show him the bandages, "But I think I need to clean it. Could you help me, maybe?"

He hesitates, his eyes gliding over my shoulder before he speaks, "Yeah."

He then reaches for one of his bags and pulls out some medical supplies. To my surprise, he has practically everything needed to clean my wound.

"Come," he says, motioning for me to move to the edge of the bed. I follow his order and grab the bottom of my sweater, pulling it over my head and letting it hang off the other shoulder. His gaze flickers over to my collarbone before he looks back at my bandages. He then reaches over and moves the chair from his small table to right in front of me before taking a seat himself. The sound of the chair reminds me back to the night I had almost kissed Keegan. I wince, cringing from the thought I embarrassed myself that night.

"This might hurt," he says as he places one of his hands near the edge of my bandages.

"I know. Just do it fast," I say, biting my lip to prepare for the worst.

He doesn't hesitate. He rips the tape off in a split second before putting pressure on the now-exposed skin. "It looks decent," he reassures.

"Good," I whisper as the stinging sensation returns.

He then reaches over to grab some supplies before carefully spraying the cleaning solution onto my skin. The liquid burns intensely for a few seconds and I once again have to bite my bottom lip to not make any sounds.

"I know," he says, his gaze switching back and forth between my face and the wound.

The pain fades and I can finally open my eyes normally. I look down at him as he cleans my wound with care.

"How's your wound, actually? Did it leave a scar?" I ask.

"I don't know. I don't pay attention to it," he says as he uses a cotton pad to remove some of the dried blood. I stay silent. My gaze simply fixated on him as he takes care of my wound. The sight of him so up close in more so regular lighting does something weird to me.