Complicated With You • Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

4 - same mistake

     He crashed at yours that night. His dead phone unable to be charged with the leads in your house.

     'Not my fault you have a brick for a phone.' You had told him. He only brushed you off.

His home was too far a walk, especially at that time of night. He had suggested to use your phone to call for an Uber. You made up an excuse about strangers in random cars and the dangers they would release onto him.

     He hadn't bothered bickering or speaking with you. Simply grumbling and turning onto his side, back facing you.

You were too tired to point his ignorance. Plus, the profound back muscles, defined shoulder blades and scattered varies of ink along his roughed and scarred skin had much appealed to you.

It was a sight that lulled you to sleep.

Next day came around. A Tuesday. 6:23 am and you had slipped out of bed. But before, you'd spent five minuets under the covers, blessing your eyes by scanning the man beside you.

He had rolled over onto his back during sleep. One arm above his head, hand spread through his hair. Other arm reached out to the side, outstretched fingers centimetres from your face.

     The duvet had shuffled down overnight, revealing Simon's toned v-line. Your eyes followed the lines, stoping abruptly at the hem of his boxers. Flimsy piece of material, obscuring what he had not be afraid to reveal last night.

You had appreciated the early morning view, stroking the so called view with your fingertips, leaving none it untouched.

    You stood in front of your mirror, the bathroom light dimly illuminating the room, the black winter sky providing no light at all. Staring at the clear orange yellow bottle before you, you sighed. Too busy last night, you had forgotten to take your second dose.

     Mentally scolding yourself, you grabbed the bottle, pouring out three pills into your hand. You took them, swallowing them down with water from the sink.

You used the back of your hand to swipe the droplets of water lingering on your lips. Tired eyes swept over the face in the mirror. A face you'd always been familiar with. Not particular a positive familiarity, but what of that could you change?

     You had to live with it.

You had to live with the dark bags under your eyes, seeming worse than they had been for a while. Once soft lips, chapped and dry. Smooth skin, now droughty and dehydrated. Body weight changing rapidly.

You'd noticed the changes in body, face, personality and emotions, though you hadn't acted upon them. Best to ignore it instead of stressing and living life worrying about yourself.

You didn't want to live your whole life as some damaged body, cradling yourself as if you were a crippled and fragile elder. You were in your mid twenties.

Dealing with it as a child and ruining those early years of youth was difficult enough, having to mature mentally throughout your time at primary school.

You wanted to enjoy life now. Make the most of what youthfulness you had left inside you.

"Get out, and don't fucking come back until you've decided to cheered up a little." Their voice was raised. "Your shitty mood is beginning to become extremely droning."

The door slams. He walks away.

Jaw tense, tears welling and throat tightening, you swallow the last remaining amount of saliva in your mouth, now dry.