The Girl In Flat 25 (Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader)

Chapter 15: Shower

March 10, 2:45 am.

You awoke to knocking on your door.

quickly checking the time your eyebrows raised in worry. Who would be visiting at this time of night?

climbing from your, rather comfy, nest of blankets and pillows to clamber to your front door. Another knock scared you, only slightly, and you looked through the peephole to see who in the world it could be.

Simon.

You unlatched the door and stared at him, sleep still heavy in your eyes. "Simon? What do you need?"

"The facilities in my flat aren't working and I need to leave for work by 5. I just need a shower." He explained, his eyes shifting uncomfortably. He wasn't used to asking people for help, even if it was something small like directions, or to use a shower in this case. You were a little surprised, honestly. He had to be ready to leave this early? What in the world for?

"Oh... Uh... Of course, Simon." You stepped aside, allowing him to squeeze past you and into your apartment, "The bathroom is... You know where the bathroom is." You laughed awkwardly and stepped back, "Towels are under the sink, uh... That's it."

He stared down at you, studying your appearance momentarily, mainly the large band shirt you wore as pajamas, before nodding and walking to the bathroom. When the door latched behind him you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and walked over to your couch, plopping down on it and turning the television on. It took you basically no time to fall asleep.

Simon turned the water on and, while he waited for it to heat up, took out a towel, dropped it on the back of the toilet and undressed. The hot water was pleasant,  one of the few hot water showers he allowed himself. He used one of the many soaps you had, strawberry poundcake, and washed his hair with a random shampoo of yours.

Oddly, he was a fan of the scents, just not on him, but in his rush to leave he had forgotten his stuff in his apartment.

Shuffling out of the bathroom he spoke, "Thanks-..." His eyes fell on your sleeping form on the couch and the words died in his throat, not wanting to wake you. He felt awkward, standing in the foyer of your apartment as you slept soundly. Cautiously he approached you, looking at you for a second, he could finally make out the lettering on your shirt.

Sleep Token.

Interesting name for a band, he thought as he picked up a throw blanket on the arm of your couch and gently rested it across your legs. It was cold in your apartment, and he couldn't imagine the shirt that only went to the mid of your thigh keeping you very warm.

When he left he checked the door was locked once, twice, thrice before finally walking back to his apartment. He had to leave, he had a mission and he had to be ready.

March 10, 7:58 pm.

The vehicle rocked as it drove over bumpy and muddy terrain, it honestly was starting to make Simon feel a little ill. He would never express that out loud, and he was grateful for the hood that covered his face so he could, somewhat, openly grimace as they hit another harsh bump.

"... Did you hear me, Simon?" Gaz called for him, causing Simon to turn slowly to the man.

"No."

"I said, you smell lovely." The younger man grinned teasingly, playfully, and John snorted beside him.

"It's true, LT. You smell like a nice candle or something. Like a..."

"Like a strawberry shortcake." Gaz finished John's sentence, laughing softly.

Simon could feel the need to strangle not only MacTavish but Garrick as well.

"Spend the night with your pretty neighbour lady?" The Scotsman asked as he adjusted his gloves, eyes locked intently on his hands. "Or do you have another lady, LT?"

Simon cast a short glare at the mohawked pest, and Gaz gasped.

"LT, you dog. Got a partner and didn't tell us about it? Man, I'm kinda hurt." Gaz leaned back, adjusting the brim of his hat.

"Naw man, they aren't dating. He won't-"

"Johnny, that's enough," Simon warned dangerously.

He would never hurt MacTavish in any way, but he thought about it sometimes.

"Sorry, LT. But you really should try asking her out, or something." John shrugged, "Get laid at the least, maybe you'd be happier."

Or maybe he could hurt MacTavish.

Simon's eyes stared ahead, straight through Gaz. He could see vaguely how the young man looked away uncomfortably.

He thought the rest of the drive, maybe they had an idea. Maybe, just maybe. He would never tell them that, though.

___

Oooo things are moving. Also shout out to bbg Gaz, who has had a soft spot in my heart forever.

Also, shout-out to my partner for helping me write the dialogue for Ghost, what a legend.