Rora woke up in the middle of the night, which wasn't that unusual for her. As she groggily reached for her phone to look at the time, her body's soreness somehow was very unusual. She needed a moment to remember what just happened a few hours ago since she read 2:32 am on her clock. But her bed was empty.
„Did I just dream that?" Rora ran her hand through her hair, flinching as she yanked on a few tangled pieces. God, her hair was a mess these days. And even if she dreamed all that, it was sure as hell one of the hottest dreams of all time.
Her throat felt dry, so she decided to get a glass of water. She pulled her cropped tank top back, and since she was not really feeling pants, she chose to stay in her black thongs. Yawning, she exited her room, but all the tiredness vanished from her body when she spotted a figure standing in front of the window of her living room.
That window was what sold the apartment to her. It was big, reaching from almost the floor to the ceiling, giving a full look at the city below. When she got overwhelmed or just couldn't sleep, that was her favorite space to just relax a little, and disassociate from life. When she sat there, listening to the rain or just sipping on a glass of wine, she felt like she was atop the world, only observing others, admiring what was in front of her.
And as she stood in the middle of the living room, watching Simon lean against the wall and just stare ahead, she felt the same way. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of her steps, and she couldn't help the smile on her lips.
So it wasn't a dream after all.
„It's peaceful, isn't it?" Rora asked idly, walking beside him and circling an arm around his waist. He was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, but in her opinion, he looked better without them.
„It's quiet," Simon spoke up, his voice not carrying the usual gruffness and coldness it usually did. He looked relaxed, for once in his life, even his body language changed. A sudden chill ran along her spine, making her snuggle to his side, seeking his warmth. He was always so warm.
What she didn't know was that he didn't only mean his environment. His thoughts seemed to cease when she was with him. All the things he did and went through, all the things he said and probably will didn't make a buzzing noise inside his skull like usual. No, when Rora was around, they went away. His mind found a calm space, where his body could finally relax a bit and not feel on edge all the time.
Despite Rora Wells turning his life upside down and destroying anything that got in her way, she made him feel at peace.
She stayed by his side for a few more minutes, just enjoying the silence and his warmth, her eyes losing focus of the raindrop flowing down the window as they slowly drooping close. It was so long since she got a full night's sleep, and after everything, they just did she felt like she was going to need a week's full of rest. But a sudden light touch on the left side of her face made her jump.
„Go back to bed," the lowness of his tone wrapped around her like a blanket, tiredness clinging to her like superglue at this point.
„You want to stay a little?" she popped her chin against his shoulder, looking up at him from his side. He kept his eyes on the city lights as she waited for an answer, her gaze wandering over his features. Her fingers twitched as the urge to trace his sharp jawline grew inside her, but it was quickly suppressed by the desire for a kiss as he turned to face her.
He looked like he haven't slept a minute, though. At least she got to sleep a few hours, but God knows how long has he been out here. And by the looks of it, for a long time. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and he wasn't that stable on his feet like usual, a clear giveaway that tiredness was on the verge of swiping him off his feet.
„I can redress your wound for you," Rora offered, knowing very little about how to deal with his closed-off side.
All of this was so new to her, she only knew the practical, lieutenant side of his. The one who didn't bat an eye at any body that dropped by his steps, the one who was ready to tear the world apart with his bare hands if needed. She only knew Ghost for a long time. Simon Riley was a totally different side.
And the Simon standing beside her was someone she wanted to give the world and the universe, just to make him happier.
Instead of accepting her help, Simon reached out and cupped her cheek in his large hand, Rora immediately leaning in his touch. He leaned down and stole another kiss from her, the same burning passion from before still lingering behind it, setting her entire being on fire. She didn't hesitate with wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.
There was nothing in the world like him: his scent became her favorite smell, the sound of his voice became her favorite music, his touch became the most expensive thing touching her delicate skin, and his soul was the most beautiful thing she have ever seen. It wasn't perfect, he wasn't perfect. But it was the imperfections that made him so mesmerizing in her eyes.
And lying by his side, her fingers tracing his scars she couldn't help but think those were beautiful. Her official play was to tire him out with a round two but she was way too exhausted to do that. So, she choose the thing her mother did to her whenever she couldn't sleep: soothingly trace his skin and ramble until he fell asleep.
„Where is this from?" she asked, keeping her voice low, not wanting to disturb the calm air between them too much. Her fingers grazed over a scar on his chest. It was a few inches long, it healed nicely and smoothed back on his skin. She guessed it was from a knife by the looks of it.
„Russia," he replied, his voice coming out as a rumble from the close proximity.
She scooted over a little, laying her arm across his abs and setting her chin on her arm, her eyes admiring him. Feeling his gaze on her, she looked up, blushing ever so slightly under the weight of his gaze. He have seen every inch of her body, he touched and praised almost every part of hers, and she still got flustered by his gaze.
Diverting her gaze, her free hand danced from his chest to his shoulder, a bittersweet smile appearing on her face. She remembered where he got that one: it was the night they got betrayed by Graves and his Shadows. She offered to patch him up but after their little kiss, everything fell apart. He probably did it himself by the looks of it. It was at an awkward angle, and it didn't heal as nicely. Her finger grazed over it, feeling how it bumped out of his skin a little, the scar tissue popping against his skin.
„I think you said you can do it by yourself," she humored, glancing back at his face. He clearly wasn't as amused as she was, earning a chuckle from her.
She let her hand continue on its way to explore his body, noting how small goosebumps appeared at the trail of her touch. She wondered when was the last time somebody got to touch him the way she did it. She hoped it wasn't too many women who got to explore this side of his, she wanted to keep him for herself.
She pressed a light kiss against his chest over his scar from Russia, her eyes catching another one on his side.
This one was the biggest out of all of them. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected it from closer, noting how it looked like his skin got torn open. It was bigger than her hand, the scar tissue bumping against her skin noticeably. It wasn't a pretty sight, both of them knew it, especially the memories about getting it, but Rora still touched it like it was the most delicate fine art she have ever seen.
„And this one?" her crystalline eyes wandered back to his, getting lost in his eyes for a few moments. In this lighting, with only the moon shining through her window, his eyes seemed black. She craved his darkness.
„Mexico," Simon replied, not breaking eye contact. His voice became colder, telling her that it wasn't a thing he would happily talk about. She remembered that he told Soap before he was in Mexico before, unlike the both of them before their mission in Las Almas.
She pressed another kiss on his side, hoping that she didn't bring up any trauma within him. It was hard to read his emotions, he was very good at masking them. But it was clear that getting that scar would mess anybody up, even mentally so. The thought of going through that and the healing process made Rora's skin crawl.
Seeking a distraction, her eyes found his arms, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight of little circles. She reached out to touch them, noting how his muscles tensed then relaxed under her touch.
„What about these?"
„My father."
Her blood ran cold. She saw similar circle-like scars on one of her classmates back in high school but didn't think too much of it. But now she was able to make the connection that it was probably one of her parents that caused them. She traced the circles with sad eyes, anger bubbling inside her.
„Is he alive?" her tone came out threatening, like a solid promise that she would make sure he wasn't alive for long.
„No," he let out a small sigh, his eyes carefully scanning her face. She only nodded her head, the angered expression still present on her features.
She thought she had a shitty father, but this topped everything. The urge to say 'I'm sorry' grew with every heartbeat, but she swallowed it, knowing damn well that Simon Riley didn't need anybody's sorry.
„Good," Rora answered, lifting herself up and pressing a kiss against what seemed like cigarette scars. She couldn't be sure, but she wasn't going to ask about them.
A good few silent minutes passed between them, Rora's eyes closing shut despite her best efforts, his warmth and touch making it impossible to stay awake. But she knew him enough to know he was probably still far away from actually sleeping. She lifted her head up from his chest, her eyes immediately meeting his. He looked tired but his eyes were wide awake.
„Got a lot on your mind again?" Rora asked, her voice barely a whisper.
„Yes," he nodded slightly, a sad frown appearing on her face. She hated when her thoughts didn't let her sleep.
„How can I help?" She would do anything if it would bring him peace. She would kill anybody, bring the stars down to him, set the world on fire. But his answer wasn't as dramatic as her thoughts.
„Just talk. About anything," his dark eyes followed his fingers brush against the cruel bullet wound just under her collarbone, his delicate touch and sorrow in his eyes speaking louder than any word. The way he kissed the wound he caused when he undressed her was the loudest 'I'm sorry' she has ever heard. She offered him an understanding smile, pressing a light kiss on the inside of his wrist before she placed her head back on his chest.
His heartbeat became her third favorite song, following close behind the noise she could lure out of him just a few hours ago. Her cheeks flushed at the memory, pressing her body closer to his.
So she did just what he asked, talking about anything and everything that came to her mind. She told him about the shenanigans she did in her teenage years, telling him about her most fun missions and the dogs she got to work with. Then, she started talking about her mother, feeling safe enough to talk about her to him. While rambling, her hand drew random shapes over his skin, not being able to get her hands off him. She knew he wasn't a fan of physical touch that much but he knew she needed a little cuddling, so he let her do that. And somehow, her touch wasn't that bad, almost enjoyable. He thought that out of all the few people who touched him, hers was his favorite.
He listened to every word that came out of her mouth, grasping into them and putting them into the safe place in his mind, where he cherished the very few good memories he had. The ones with Rora started to outnumber all the other ones.
When her words grew incoherent and drowned into mumbling, her eyes already falling closed, he soothed a hand over her head, letting a few soft dark wavy pieces slip through his fingers. And when she grew quiet, her soft breathing indicating that she fell asleep, he let himself close his eyes and give into tiredness. Her presence let him have the longest and most peaceful sleep in a long time.
°•○●⸸●○•°
When Rora woke up the next morning and went to grab a cup of coffee, she was surprised to see the man her heart decided to beat stand in her kitchen, already preparing breakfast.
His black t-shirt hung from her shoulders, reaching to her mid-thigh, the scent of his cologne still clinging to the fabric. With silent steps, she approached him, her hand running along the curve of his back. A few scars decorated his skin, but she thought they were just like little jewelry, giving him more character. He didn't flinch at her touch, feeling her presence in the room the second she stepped in. She tried to be silent but nothing could go past him.
She pressed a kiss on his shoulder as a 'Good morning'. His hand touched the small of her back in such a caring way that made her heart flutter as a 'Good morning, you too'.
„I wanted to make that English tea of yours for the morning," Rora frowned, her plans flying out the window. She was sure she would wake up before him, knowing how exhausted he was. But it looked like tiredness was unknown for Simon Riley.
„You can still try," he gave her a doubting look, turning back to making scrambled eggs. Still, his morning voice made all annoyance vanish in an instant inside her.
„I take that as a challenge," she stuck her tongue out at him, diving headfirst into making an English tea.
While she pretended to know exactly what she was doing she felt the weight of his gaze on her, following her every move. But he didn't comment on anything so she believed she did well enough. That was until it came to presenting the thing in a pastel pink little cup, with small daisies decorating the side. Meanwhile, she already popped a capsule in her coffee machine, waiting for it to brew. She didn't like coffee that much, but Leilani found these caramel-flavored latte capsules and those were not that bad.
„Here you go," she placed the cup in front of him on the counter, making his eyes snap to her from his phone. It was a sight, alright: he was only wearing black sweatpants, his muscles flexing with every move. And the little pink cup in front of him was just comical at this point.
He looked down at the cup, clearly not impressed by it, and it almost caused her to burst out laughing. God, she missed annoying him.
„Do you want sugar in it?" Rora asked, her sweet tone just adding another layer of annoyance, but she enjoyed every second of it.
„I'm sweet enough," Simon deadpanned, his voice void of any emotion as he picked up the cup.
She leaned on the counter, hiding her smile behind her hand but her eyes gave her away. Simon took a moment to appreciate how the sun shining through the window made her eyes shine like a billion dollars worth of diamonds.
He took a cautious sip from the obnoxious cup of tea, flinching at the taste. He forced the horridly tasting piss of Satan, placing the cup back down on the white countertop, her observant eyes following his every move.
„Thank you, that was fucking abysmal," he looked back up at her, a laugh erupting from her. Despite his harsh words, his tone was tinted with slight amusement, not a trace of real anger showing on him.
„Is it really that bad?" she reached for the cup, still laughing, ready to dump the whole thing out, but he put a hand on hers, stopping her.
„Yes, but you made it so I'll still drink it," he pulled the pink nightmare back towards him, circling his wrist as he attempted to stir the tea. It was the worst fucking thing he ever had the disgrace to put in his body, but Rora made it. „I'll teach you how to make it right."
Her heart fluttered at his offer, nodding along with a smile on her face. Anything that meant she could spend more time with him she would do happily. When her stomach grumbled, signaling her that she hadn't eaten any proper food in a day, she turned to the scrambled eggs already placed on a plate. It was the saddest scrambled eggs she'd ever seen.
It was dull looking, some parts were even burnt a little. It looked sad and she felt sad by just looking at it. She wasn't a pro at cooking either, but even she knew something was off with that one.
„I wasn't aware that food can cause more trauma than my father, but here we are," the words came out of her mouth before she could contain her thoughts. And then the unexpected happened.
She saw Simon Riley smile. It was a close-lipped, not in-your-face smile, just a subtle smirk, but it was the first time she ever saw it. And she thought it was the most beautiful sight ever. The corner of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly, amusement mirroring back in his dark eyes.
„Oh, my god, what is that?" she leaned over the countertop, poking the side of his face with a finger. „Dare I say, a smile? A smirk, even?"
He slapped her hand away, a light laugh bouncing from her lips, admiration making her eyes glow. He didn't know when was the last time he was able to smile, but with her everything seemed easy. But that small smile disappeared the minute the bitter and shitty drink she dared to call 'English tea', but he thought he deserved that punishment for disappearing from her life just like that.
„It suits you," Rora commented with a dreamy look on her face, still holding his gaze. „I wish I could see it more often."
He wanted it, too. To make her happy. But he just couldn't smile effortlessly after everything he'd been through. But I promise I'll try. For you.
And the time they spent together everything seemed fine. They helped to heal each other's souls with gentle touches, and stolen kisses and just forget about the world existing outside of their little bubble. Simon didn't even mind that the room he reserved in a hotel remained untouched because sleeping beside her helped his mind and soul learn what peace feels like.
But the day when he had to go back to England to discuss his next mission with Price Rora drove him to the airport, a heavy feeling pressing down on her chest. She silently mourned the time they spent together, not knowing when will be the next time they'll ever get to see each other again. Their time together was way too small.
Simon noticed how she wrapped herself up in a silent bubble through their entire drive toward the airport, her silence unsettling him. He knew she was sad, she just didn't want to show it. But when they parked outside the airport, the silent tears glistening in her eyes were impossible to ignore.
„Rora," he placed a hand over her knee, catching her attention.
„First of all, fuck you for making me emotional," she wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her sweater – in all honesty, it was his, she just stole it out from his bag. He decided not to comment on it. „Then fuck you for leaving me again."
He didn't know how to deal with crying people. Crying women especially made him uncomfortable, and right now it felt like his presence was only making things worse. The best he could afford was a pat on the shoulder, but it didn't seem like Rora appreciated it that much.
„Promise me you'll contact me," she whispered in front of herself, her hand grazing his that still laid on her thigh.
„I promise," Simon replied without missing a heartbeat, causing her to finally look up. His heart squeezed at the sight of her tears. Hesitantly, he reached to her face, carefully wiping away a tear. She leaned in his touch, her lips quivering as she tried to hold back the tears.
I always keep my promises, his sentence rang in her head. She just hoped this wasn't going to be a final goodbye. She wasn't okay with goodbyes, even though all her loved ones left her without one.
She leaned over the central console, pressing a kiss on his lips. It took him a moment to react, the hand cupping her cheek before now tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. This was her biggest flaw: when she fell in love, she fell with all of her being. She loved with her whole heart, she felt with her entire being: when she was in love, it felt like her soul and heart now split into two, her loved one keeping that half and it only depended on them whether they will cherish it or tore it apart.
Everett Saunders pretended to cherish it, then tore it to pieces.
Simon Riley pretended he didn't care, then cherished all the pieces she gave him with his entire being.
And with that, she watched him get out of her car and enter the airport, leaving her broken heart in her car. She wanted nothing more than run after him and beg for him to stay, to scream her lungs out by calling his name. But she knew she had to let him go, do the only thing that made him feel a little less shitty: saving people and doing missions nobody would take.
But they didn't say goodbye once. Because Rora Wells hated goodbyes. And Simon Riley made it his personal mission to never have to say goodbye to her ever again.
___________________________
can i just say i love them