Summary:You discover that the person who has been helping you all this time is the one who tortured you months ago.
Note:Sorry for not updating. My cat broke my computer keyboard, and my phone keyboard is a bit broken too. Every time I type, five extra letters appear. It was torture typing, hahaha, but I managed.
Warnings: Distress, needles, lack of oxygen, mention of torture, English is not my native language, I apologize again for any mistakes
Sitting in the work chair while you watched your coworker attend a customer. You wondered exactly what you wanted with Simon. He was your neighbor, pretty hot if you base it on that side, but beyond that you didnât know where you wanted to go with him.
No. A friend definitely wouldnât lift you against a counter and kiss you until sucking your soul out.
Neither, you couldnât even stand your own reflection in the mirror to handle Simonâs, a man who looks physically perfect. With thick and broad arms, and an extremely worked abdomen from what you felt while kissing him. Thick legs that were noticeable in those straight jean pants. He wasnât one of those typical guys who only trained upper body and had chicken legs. That man must spend hours at the gym.
You loved him, physically and personally. He was sarcastic and serious, he wasnât unbearable and much less egocentric, he was a simple but funny manâin his own wayâbut he was. You hadnât spent much time with him and you were pretty sure your fixation on that man was because for months nobody had made you feel anything. But God, you couldnât get him out of your head for two whole weeks.
Two weeks in which you hadnât seen him even by chance. And you didnât know if it was because he was avoiding you or because the situation just hadnât happened.
You were lost. Maybe he only wants sex, but would he have let you sleep in his apartment if he only wanted that? After smoking, both of you fell asleep, or rather you fell asleep and woke up under the sheets with your clothes intact and Simon beside you sleeping comfortably enough to sleep with his hand on your waist.
-Simon- You called, and he opened his heavy eyes instantly. You smiled and covered half your face with the pillow. Embarrassed. - You sleep lightly.
-I thought you were uncomfortable.
You smiled more and lifted the heavy blanket over yourself.
And you remembered how you made him breakfast that morning. And how both of you drank your respective drinksâhim tea and you coffeeâand then you went to your apartment because you had lunch with Vic.
Your head wouldnât stop thinking and there was only one thought rolling inside you. Burning your insides and twisting your stomach. It wasnât a doubt you only had with Simon, it was with anyone who got close to you with the intention of doing something. And it left you thinking for hours and staring blankly at a fixed point, lost somewhere in your memory like when you were in that room.
What will he do when he finds out everything. About your father, the kidnapping, the scars, the burns, the bruises. About the drama left after everything, your fears, insecurities, panic attacks. He didnât live with you, he didnât know how overwhelming and sad your life was behind closed doors. Even though everything had happened months ago most things were still intact in your head and that recapped every night. The nightmares were too strong and not to mention the panic attack that squeezed your heart and turned it into ashes. That you screamed from the pain of the burn that reflected the emptiness inside.
And suddenly, as if someone hit your head. You remembered. You slept with him, in the same bed, and maybe you had a few too many drinks but you were still somewhat sober and had the same series of nightmares as always and as far as you remember you didnât have any panic attack.
Your face started heating up and smoke started coming out of your ears when you overthought what you did that night. What could you have said or done for Simon to think you were uncomfortable. Youâd lie if you said you werenât comfortable, you were. Too much.
Alcohol helped you sleep a lot, plus the pills you had taken before going out had been the perfect calming agent. But the thorn in your foot was still there, no matter how many pills or how many drugs you lied to yourself with, your head was ready to scare you and steal every last cry from you so you remember everything you went through.
So you understand who your father is, that you remember the evil he did and pay for the last name you were given.
-Beautiful. Iâve been calling you for five minutes, everything okay? - Vic was beside you, leaning on your dark wooden desk while moving her hand in front of your sight so youâd pay attention.
-Yeah, sorry. Itâs just that I havenât slept well. What were you saying?
You took the mouse beside you and guided the white arrow on the screen toward the shut down icon and pressed with a soft âclickâ ending todayâs long day.
-Tonight I have a date. - She let out slowly and you turned your head with a smile.
-Yes! - She let out a proud laugh and looked at you again. - We talked a little, and he told me he wanted to take me to dinner at a restaurant. And I told him I donât have that much money. You know what he told me?
-That youâd pay him back on your knees.
Both of you laughed uncontrollably until you opened your eyes at the implication, slowly turning your heads toward the camera pointing in front of you where your boss watched and listened to everything.
You calmed down and both cleared your throats.
-Well, I donât think heâll deduct our pay. - Vic said while glancing at the camera. - Anyway. He said heâll pay. God! Finally a real man.
-Iâm really happy for you. -You looked at your watch and it was already past leaving time. - Go home. -You said while standing from your seat, feeling your bones complain with a silent scream expressed in intense pain in your knees and hips. Your head weighed a little but you didnât want to give it too much importance. You wanted to show Vic your gratitude for helping you settle here and thank her through a gesture for her friendship and if that meant enduring unfair pain youâd do it.
You saw how she looked at you incredulously, you always left early with the excuse that youâd miss the train. So you spoke again.
-Iâll clean and close today. You relax. Go, bathe, put on lingerie and wait for him to pay for dinner.
She let out a laugh and, surprisingly, hugged you tightly. It was a warm hug, even though her pretty curls got into your eyes and made your nose itch, it was sincere. A hug you hadnât had in a long time and you returned it slowly.
-Thank you, thank you, thank you! Iâll call you later and tell you everything. Keep the phone loud. - She said while pulling away from the hug.
-And Iâll be ready to listen to you. Now go, youâre getting late.
She smiled and stumbled out quickly, while in one movement she grabbed her bag and coat and in a blink she was already opening the heavy library door.
-Bye, darling. Have a lovely night. Ah! The key is in the second drawer of my desk, lock well. Go home carefully.
You leaned against the handrail of the building elevator that led to your floor. Your heart was racing and your head, which could no longer handle the body aches, also started complaining, and let you know with a strong pain in your temples.
In your aching brain it had been a good idea to tell Vic to leave and stay cleaning yourself, and you still held your point. But your physical body protested the terrible idea you had an hour and a half ago. Your extremities burned every single one of them, it wasnât just your feet anymore, it was your whole damn body hurting and protesting.
You thought it would only be arranging some chairs and wiping a little scented cloth. But you trusted people too much.
At first it was easy and with almost no discomfort, you arranged books that were badly placed on shelves or in incorrect sections. Then you moved on to placing the chairs on the tables and that was too much, there were a lot of chairs and you underestimated the amount and had too much faith in your destroyed legs and arms. Every single one was torture, lifting the heavy wood made your arms tremble and, unfortunately for your boss, you left some without lifting them.
It was that or heâd have to pay your insurance for hurting yourself at work.
The cloth was the worst. Your hip screamed for pills or some type of drug that would directly put you to sleep for weeks. Because unfortunately for you, recovering from activities as simple as lifting a chair took a week of pure pills to calm the stabbing pain.
You wanted anything that would drug you until you laughed at your own misery.
The soft elevator bell indicating you reached your floor was the trigger to pull you from your mind and you walked slowly out of it.
The hallway looked lonely, a little eerie with the cold light bulb on the ceiling, and seeing the other identical apartment doors of your neighbors â whom you even doubted you had because you almost never ran into any of them â gave it a sinister and very suffocating look.
Under other circumstances you would have hurried your pace, but you walked as best as you could, slowly, toward your door and searched for the key in your bag. By reflex you looked at Simon's door, the person you hadnât seen for exactly two weeks and three days. He had disappeared, and not knowing why was eating away at your head.
You donât know if heâs in his apartment or if he simply went on a trip. Maybe he was ignoring you because he didnât want you to think something wrong about your neighbor-to-neighbor relationship. The thought that he only wanted sex kept growing in your head and, to some extent, it wasnât something that made you very happy. Itâs not that you were in love with him, but you were attracted to him and you lost your chance with a man only because of your stupid head that was tiring you out more than it should and you didnât know what to do with that either.
Once you stood in front of your door your legs throbbed. You put the key into the lock praying that this time it wouldnât jam and you thanked every god when the key turned without any problem, unlocking it, you slowly opened the door. You entered your so dreamed apartment, which was completely dark and cold. So, closing the door behind you, you turned on the lights with the switch beside it and with a soft âclickâ the apartment lit up.
You walked in without pretending to be okay and limped until you reached the medicine drawer in the kitchen. Yes, you had a drawer full of pills, before it was a jar or a small box, now you already had a damn drawer full of any medication you could look for. Most of them painkillers.
With every step you took it was a curse toward your father, your last name, your family and those sons of bitches who tortured you without even listening to you in every scream you let out, in every cry you released and in every rage that filled your veins when two masked men walked in to ask you exactly the same thing as always with the difference that they changed the tortures. The only thing you remembered.
Although you would be lying. Because you did remember oneâs appearance. The design of his mask to be clear, he was the only different one from the others, since the rest wore black ski masks, but this one was different. He had a skull painted on the mask, and that torments you every night. Because he was the cruelest, he didnât talk much during the long rounds you had alone with him. If he let out more than five words it was a miracle, he specialized more in psychologically torturing you and that destroyed you.
You remember how you begged him to kill you so he would stop drowning you while he told you horrible things. And he, as if you were worth nothing, shoved your head back into the bucket of freezing water.
You stopped in front of your gray marble counter and held onto it tightly. Trying to erase that memory from your head you focused on the sharp pain in your hips. You feared fainting from the pain, something that had already happened before. You looked at the glass that was a few centimeters from your hand full of water, the one you had left untouched this morning.
You mentally noted changing that habit of filling your glass and only taking two sips.
You sighed and massaged your hips trying to relieve the stabbing pain. And you cursed out loud.
You were meters away from the pills, you couldnât give up now.
You tried to keep walking, because you were lonely enough and without help enough to pass out now, but your foot, which felt like it was on fire because your muscles wouldnât stop burning, failed.
You fell with a hard hit, dragging the glass of water with you onto the wooden floor. You felt the thin glass shatter in front of you and closed your eyes so no shards would fall into them.
You were on your knees with your forearms pressed against the wood. The sciatic nerve was going crazy sending signals to the lower part of your body so they would burn as if they were exposed flesh outside and at the same time you felt stabs as if sharp needles were piercing your flesh.
You heard three firm and pretty loud knocks on the door.
-Shit. - You managed to say. Visitors at this hour?
You didnât answer. You werenât expecting anyone, nor did you have anyone to expect. So whoever was waiting at your door was just some annoyed neighbor who must have heard the noise.
You tried to sit down very slowly. Ignoring how your joints constantly pulsed. And you let out the air you had been holding once your ass touched the floor. You closed your eyes because little by little you couldnât feel anything anymore. The last thing you heard was your door opening.
You were dreaming, as if you were in some pretty realistic dream. Because you felt everything. You were lying down on a dirty and rusty stretcher, in the same room you recognized more than your own house. You were cold and moved abruptly to get rid of the sensation of hands on your body. There was no one there but you felt it, cold and large.
It grabbed your forearms and you moved your head to shake off whatever was holding you.
You wanted to cry, and your chest shared the feeling. You felt that knot in your throat that also tied around your lungs and the oxygen was running out because of that.
Something so real had never happened to you before and that scared you.
You felt the cold hands take your pants and it was too much. Your eyes opened quickly and you blinked rapidly but it was too late. You felt a needle stab into your right thigh and let out a loud hiss.
-Calm down, itâll ease the pain in an instant.
You heard Simonâs voice and frowned because of the amount of doubts you had in your head, which were discarded when you felt the thick liquid slowly going down your legs and you cursed.
And you asked the doubt that terrified you the most right now.
-Shit, what the hell did you inject me with? - Your voice sounded muffled.
He answered so simply that more doubts filled your head already pretty drugged by that liquid. Which wouldnât stop, the medication hurt more than the thick needle itself. It felt eternal until you felt the sensation of the needle being removed and you relaxed the tense muscles in your leg much more.
You felt Simonâs hand firmly massaging the area. It was a thick liquid, pretty familiar since the nurses injected you with that pretty often during your hospital stay for you to know exactly that the pain, in your body already used to injectable painkillers, only lasted a few minutes.
Your breathing slowly calmed down and you started seeing your surroundings better. You were lying on your couch face up. Simon, who was watching you carefully with the needle in his hand, was sitting, pretty uncomfortable, on the edge of the same couch. His hand rested firmly on your right thigh.
-I have too many questions. - You said, feeling your voice far away because of the ringing in your ears.
You asked, feeling all your muscles slowly relaxing and the pain that a few moments ago was intense became more dulled and calm.
You looked at Simon from top to bottom and what caught your attention was how he was dressed. Black military boots covered the lower part of the black pants, he had a fairly thick leather belt and a black shirt. You opened your eyes, or at least you tried because you couldnât feel your face.
The Morphine was already taking effect and the adrenaline from the past moment was giving its consequence of tiredness.
Simon, who was beginning to store the medical things in the medical kit that was on top of the small table, froze for a few seconds that you noticed. And he nodded slowly while standing up with the syringe in hand.
-Are you leaving already?
Even though you tried to sound different, the disappointment was obvious in your question while you slowly sat up to be able to sit on the couch.
-No. Iâm going to throw this in the trash.
He said while heading toward the kitchen. You nodded while resting your head on the back of the couch. Your eyes were half open but much more closed than open and you were grateful the pain had passed, even though you still had some muscles trembling, but not with the same magnitude as before.
Now you were relaxed, lost in some emotional state which you didnât know if it was doubt, gratitude or fear for the person who was now sitting beside you.
-I saw you while you were getting into the elevator and afterwards I heard noises.
-And why did you inject me? Do you know how to handle that?
-Itâs basic knowledge for any deployed military man. And you told me you took painkillers, and Morphine is a good intramuscular injectable for pain.
You nodded feeling your head getting heavier and heavier.
-Thank you. - You thanked when a thought crossed your mind. - You pulled down my pants.
-You still have them low.
You frowned and looked down to see your pants, which were properly on. And you felt Simonâs laugh.
You shook your head and felt your body relax too much.
-Are you sure that was Morphine?
You slowly turned your head to look at him ironically and saw how he was in exactly the same position as you. You smiled when seeing his eyes stained with what you assumed was black ink or maybe eyeliner.
-Your eyes...theyâre stained.
You saw him frown and curse before standing up.
Had he gotten angry? You thought, but discarded it when hearing the kitchen faucet water. And you got more confused when you felt him beside you.
-Youâre falling asleep.
You heard Simon confirm the obvious.
-Do you want me to leave?
You didnât want that, not at all. For the first time you had company that knew what was happening to you, to a certain extent but he knew and was willing to help you.
And he also knew how to apply painkillers, it was positive from every angle.
You closed your eyes more calmly and willing to fall asleep.
Water. It fell in streams over your face.
You heard your name from far away but you didnât respond.
You were quite busy having the manâs wrists that was strangling you tightly.
He knew you were dreaming and that scared you even more.
Because it means you will always carry this memory to your grave.
You felt an abrupt movement and your eyes opened quickly. You took air into your chest that seemed like it hadnât received oxygen in a long time, apparently you had been holding your breath all this time.
You moved your head to see where you were.
On the same couch where you had fallen asleep, the lights were off except for the lamp you had a few meters away from you, right above that decorative little table. Your body had goosebumps and it hurt a little, besides holding your breath you had also tensed your muscles.
You heard Simonâs hoarse voice, a voice that had just woken up. He said your name and you raised your head to face him. You frowned when you saw where you really were, on top of him and with your legs at the sides of his waist.
-Iâm sorry, did I wake you?
-You moved a lot, I thought I was crushing you.
You smiled while slowing your breathing that moments ago was agitated. Your head felt pretty drugged and calm, but your body still had some pain. Especially in your hip.
You had maintained the same position for a long time and your body channeled that as danger.
You wondered how you had ended up in this position but you appreciated it in a certain way. He had a big and pretty comfortable chest to sleep there for a long nap.
Too bad your nightmare ruined everything.
-Did I say something while...sleeping?
Simon took time to answer you.
-Not really. You just moved a lot.
You nodded and felt Simonâs muscles tense under your body. He was uncomfortable and you felt very guilty for that. He had arrived from work to rest and got the bad luck of sleeping with someone who is a whole drama when closing her eyes.
You tried to sit up to change position, the last thing you wanted was for him to be uncomfortable, whether because of your body weight or how disturbed he must think you are from dreaming those things.
You let out a soft moan of pain when feeling the nerve in your leg tense. You rested your hands at the sides of Simonâs head and closed your eyes remembering you had spent too much time in the same position.
You felt Simonâs muscles tense much more and he said your name in warning while softly grabbing your hip.
-Yes, when Iâm in the same position for a long time it starts hurting.
And he asked the question you had spent the most time avoiding answering.
You stayed still for a few seconds. You looked at him from above. The position gave room for thoughts but you were comfortable enough like that, even though the pain was annoying.
You cleared your throat, thinking what to say. You could tell him half the truth, that they tried to rob you and beat you. But youâd have to dramatize the robbery a lot because thereâs no way in a common assault they wouldâve left you in the state you ended up in. So you shook your head and tried to sit completely.
-I fell when I was a child... -you answered, another muffled moan came out of your lips when you sat completely, you had to grab the couch headrest tightly from the painful pull.
Simon grabbed your hips harder and closed his eyes for an instant.
-Stop doing that because I swear youâre doing it on purpose.
-No! Seriously, my nerves are pretty fucked. - You doubted for a moment. - I wasnât very still as a child...
You bit your lip repressing a smile and there was a short silence until you felt it. On your ass, hard and pretty big.
Simon noticed you felt it and that was worse because his hand that rested on your hip had started moving to give strong squeezes, pretending to be massages. You didnât know what to do, whether get off him or continue what you hadnât finished the other night.
You breathed deeply not knowing what to do and surprised yourself by the abrupt change of the situation.
You licked your lips. There was a heavy silence between you, a silence aware of what both of you felt right now and that put you in a dilemma, because yes, you wanted this guy to make you bite the pillow but you were pretty fucked up for him to even touch you.
You took air and felt those pretty intense brown eyes on you. And you swear you could spend hours looking into those eyes.
-Do you want me to get off?
-Are you uncomfortable? -He asked while massaging your hips even more, making you slowly begin to move over his hard masculinity. You let out air slowly and didnât oppose his movements.
You rested your hands on his big chest and kept moving your hips against his. He felt big and too pleasurable, but your hip didnât think the same. A strong pull, that felt like fire in your femur, made you let out a moan of pain and Simon noticed it.
-Come here. - He said while pressing your back so youâd fall onto his chest.
You had ruined the moment, again.
And refusing to let that happen again, you rested your hands on his chest and lifted yourself only a few centimeters to take Simonâs soft mouth between your lips.
The kiss was hard. Both seemed released from what they had been accumulating for a long time. His tongue little by little entered your mouth and you tasted his addictive saliva while you took the initiative to keep moving on top of his hip. Feeling his length again.
You let out a moan of pain on his lips and Simon broke the kiss.
-Does it hurt, love? - That nickname and especially coming from Simonâs throat was the perfect trigger for your insides to heat up.
You answered honestly. You felt Simonâs hands on the hem of your shirt. And you knew what he wanted.
-Youâre not going to like it. -You said simply. While trying to sit up slowly making pained expressions.- Itâs not pretty skin.
You felt Simonâs penetrating gaze and the fact he didnât answer made every stone of courage you had gathered to tell him about your ruined skin crumble.
He let go of your hips and you understood the signal. He didnât want to see you, and you understood it, it was something you had convinced yourself of since you left the hospital and looked at yourself in the mirror.
You were about to get off his hips, enduring the pain until his hands took his shirt and lifted it to pass it over his head, messing up his blond strands of hair.
And you held your breath when seeing his chest and the many scars that marked it. Your sight focused on the biggest one, a deep and thick wound, it looked badly healed and you recognized it because you had several like that too. Deep cuts on his marked abdomen, some tattoos ruined by the scars. Some were new, clear and reddish, others were already old and it showed from the texture.
You brought your hand closer to try touching one. The biggest one, the one on his chest but you didnât want to make him uncomfortable. Until you felt his warm hand taking yours and guiding it to the scar.
Its texture was strange, but you didnât dislike it and it was warm to the touch.
-Gunshot wound. It was in a mission around... -He stopped. Trying to remember. - Four years ago. The lucky one managed to break through the vest.
You took air and guided your hand to another one, near his clavicle. This one did look somewhat old, it was barely noticeable but it caught your attention because it was long and, seeing where it was located, it looked like a pretty dangerous cut.
-I was young, barely entering the army and they sent me to guard a container. I got attacked by five and the price of getting out alive was a deep cut.
You frowned not understanding.
-Why are you telling me this?
-So you see that no scar is bad, theyâre only written anecdotes. - He took your waist strongly. - Open yourself to me, love. Tell me each one of them.
You held your breath and you were doubtful. You felt that tiny warm light lamp was a spotlight for you but without thinking too much you passed your shirt over your head. Showing your skin to Simonâs penetrating eyes who only looked with neutrality, you were desperate to see some reaction or gesture of disgust but found nothing, only his eyes looking at you.
-May I. - He said while bringing his hand toward your right rib, below just below the bra.
You knew it was there. A deep scar, a cut they had cauterized with fire and it left a texture on your once smooth skin that even disgusted you to touch.
You shook your head slowly. And guided your hands to your back to unclasp the tight bra. You threw it to the floor and brought your mouth close to Simonâs.
-Donât be gentle, please.
You didnât want him to treat you like a cracked porcelain doll. You wanted something normal, rough and without compassion. A fuck that gave you your confidence back and made you feel desired again. You wanted his hands to be rough with palpable need in them and not treat you like how fragile you really were.
Simon took your lips in a rough kiss. He put his tongue in and you tasted his soft mouth. His hands strongly took your hips and you started moving on top of him. Feeling how he was getting harder and harder.
And a pretty familiar heat increased inside you when feeling him so excited beneath you.
His hands went up to your chest but stayed centimeters away from it, waiting for tacit permission and you grabbed his hands taking them to your hard nipples. Covering them completely. You felt Simon moan and the sound trembled through your whole body.
Your hip burned in pain from the back and forth movements, and you endured the strong discomfort to keep enjoying the heat that was getting stronger and more pleasurable inside you.
In an unprepared movement Simon threw you on your back onto the couch and positioned himself on top of you. Resting his forearms at the sides of your head, without breaking the kiss, while rubbing his whole cock over that exact spot on your hips.
You moaned in pleasure and pain while Simonâs mouth left soft bites on your neck.
-Tell me if it hurts and Iâll stop. But talk to me, love.
Simon stayed staring at the ceiling while you were completely naked on top of him. Both were covered with the thin green blanket you had on the couch and that kept you warm in the cold of your apartment.
Your breathing was soft, you slept peacefully while his strong tattooed arm surrounded you. Simon was grateful you didnât have another nightmare, not because they bothered him, he knew with too much certainty what itâs like to dream something like that and wake up lost somewhere in your head. He understood it, only it gave him discomfort in his stomach hearing you mumble things he had already heard months ago.
His chest filled with something he couldnât decipher and he preferred waking you before continuing tormenting himself hearing you.
He looked at you. You were beautiful, your messy hair gave you a domestic appearance and your shoulders were incredibly soft. He hugged you tighter, it had been too long since he had a fuck like this. It was always quick, he lowered his pants and didnât worry about the other personâs pleasure, he simply wanted release and thatâs how he did it to then leave without even saying goodbye.
But with you it was different. Everything it wasnât supposed to be. It was soft, when you asked him for everything except that, but he didnât want to hurt you more. Enough guilt filled his chest when you didnât moan from pleasure but from the constant pain in your extremities. He tried to ignore that feeling every time he heard you, he wanted to be rough, he wanted to treat you the same way he treated his one night lovers but he couldnât. The guilt in his chest was too heavy to even leave you a hickey on your neck. Because he didnât deserve it, he didnât deserve to mark you, he didnât deserve to have another mark of his on your body when he had already marked you in a traumatic way, that he wanted at all costs to turn back time and start from zero with you.
Start getting to know each other as neighbors and nothing more. Just a good neighbor whose door hates her and him being your personal helper.
But this wasnât like that and while you adjusted yourself better on top of him, his mind tried to kill him that instant seeing how his member got excited.
The days were too domestic for Simon. Who spent too much time in your apartment to pretend now guilt about it. He loved it, he was too comfortable with you and was already getting used to your daily routine.
You took too many pills and he wrote down all of them in his calendar, setting an alarm five minutes before yours rang so he already had the pill and glass of water ready.
Every other night you slept together. Both tangled in the feather blanket and hugged until falling asleep. He wanted you to stop the sleeping pills, because now you took a new stronger dose, according to what you had told him, it was so much that if you took the pill you had to be in bed, otherwise you fell asleep in the middle of the hallway and Simon didnât like that at all. He wasnât a fan of pills and he told you that.
But he didnât say anything else, he only told you his experience and point of view but didnât force or recommend you to stop taking them. He knew what he had done to you but didnât take into account how all that affected you. He saw you and heard you in your nightmares, but he isnât who to tell you how to cope with a situation, and you already had too much in your head to have Simon on top of you. So he left you be.
He helped you with the pain through strong massages that left your body too relaxed. And he was fascinated, he loved being useful to you. He loved helping you as much as possible.
But since the universe hates him. Something always had to end badly.
It rained, too much for his taste. The loud thunder echoed in the building while he arrived at your apartment. Just moments ago he had come out of a deployment of no more than a week, tired. And he missed you more than he could swear.
He searched in the pocket of his jean pants for the key copy you had given him as soon as he told you he was leaving for a week because of work.
He had worried too much about changing clothes before arriving at the building to not raise suspicions about his uniform.
As soon as Soap saw Simon getting into the locker rooms, something strange in him because he only removed the mask and left for his house like that, to change clothes he noticed what he was doing.
-How much longer do you plan to continue with the lie, L.T?
He said while adjusting the belt on his waist.
-Doesnât she suspect? Not even a little? - Johnny asked while leaning his shoulder on the door frame. The voice was an echo in the large room with only the two of them, a headache for Simon.
-Are you going to tell her? Because Price...
There was a silence in which Simon passed his black shirt over his head and looked at the blue eyed young man.
-I know, I know. John wants to talk later with you.
He opened the door to your apartment and saw you. Everything was off and only a faint warm light from that lamp illuminated your face, which was lost somewhere in the room. He closed the door slowly, not understanding absolutely anything.
And he entered your space slowly, his heavy boots echoed too much on the wooden floor and you didnât even flinch and that worried him even more. His heart started beating fast, too much for his liking and you noticed nothing, you only had something black in your hands.
-Donât take another step. Please...
He saw your hands start trembling and your cheeks fill with slippery tears down your face.
He saw how the words struggled to come out of your mouth. You opened and closed it trying to connect two sentences but nothing came out. Only furious tears fell from your eyes. And without more you threw what you had in your hands to the floor.
At this point you were already screaming while Simon was static looking at his mask. He understood nothing. Who had given it to you? That was in his locker, he made sure to leave it there when you started getting closer, he risked nothing and was very meticulous with his tactical equipment. He even stored the damn photos of the 141 in the deepest part of his drawers.
-Leave. I donât want to see you. - Your voice broke and he raised his sight from the floor and looked at you. You were curled up in your couch, your legs hugged by your arms while you looked at him with a fear so characteristic of his victims. So characteristic of you, that he had seen you like that so many times in that cell. - Simon, or Ghost whatever your name is, leave or Iâll call the police.
Both knew that wasnât going to happen. Because both knew he did everything within legal margins and that, he noticed, was what devastated you the most.
Not being able to do anything.
-Like you listen to me in that cell?
He shook his head. His heart was in his mouth and it beat too fast to let him think what to say. He got closer to you but you moved away as much as the couch allowed.
-Donât come closer. Stay away! - Your hand trembled too much at this point and the last thing he wanted was making you have a panic attack right now. - I hate you, I hate you so much. Your whole damn team and you even more for everything you did. I donât know how you had the nerve to talk to me. Youâre sick, seriously. Did you like it? Did you find it funny?
-It wasnât like that...
-Oh really, surely not. I hate you, too much, I hate you so much.
You were beside yourself. You cried while repeating the last sentence and shook your head while hiding it between your bent legs. He swallowed hard and stepped back.
He wanted to calm you. Even if it was helping you right now and then leaving, but he knew you didnât deserve that it would be worse if he tried calming a fire he himself lit. And with an impotence that broke his chest he turned around while hearing you cry frantically. He walked toward your door and took one last look at the woman he had destroyed until turning into this.
A body with constant pain. With a damaged mind to the point of consuming too many pills to do something as basic as sleep. Reducing an active girl into a body limited even to staying still for a few seconds. And destroying her brain making her believe he was a good person.
That he wasnât a cruel soldier.
That he didnât torture.
That he was the complete opposite of the people who did all that to you.
But he wasnât. He was still Ghost, the machine trained to kill. The machine that tortured you mercilessly for days and that was enough to leave.
He entered his apartment and closed the door with a slam that echoed in the window glass. He breathed agitated, his heart threatened to leave his chest and he scratched his head too hard feeling the tickle of a drop of sweat falling down his neck.
He didnât know what was happening to him but his chest hurt too much. And he didnât know if it was guilt from destroying you or the impotence of knowing you were having a panic attack and he left you there alone.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he answered knowing perfectly who it was.
-You told her? - His voice came out forced, almost as if his chest struggled to release dioxide. But even so it sounded imposing.
On the other side of the line there was silence and Simon was about to hang up until he spoke.
-I did what you shouldâve done since you saw her.
Priceâs strong voice sounded in Simonâs ears and made him bite his lips too hard to hold back the amount of words he wanted to tell his superior.
-And why the fuck do you care?
-I care about the safety of my team members, Simon.
Sorry if there are any typos, it was really hard to type with a broken keyboard. I hope you liked it!!!