Had the worst shift of my life . Shit was so bad I went nonverbal for the entire evening I don’t think I’ve done that in years, stress to the S T R E S S.
Ghost, who finds you curled up in the closet when he gets back to the apartment. It’s his first leave in weeks, and he was excited to see you! Seeing your car in the parking deck, your keys in the bowl-
But you’re not anywhere in the apartment. He can’t hear you blasting music in the kitchen or bathroom, can’t hear the tv playing or you tapping away at your desktop. Some of your clothes- jacket, shoes, socks- are scattered on the floor, in a messy trail towards the linen closet. Simon twitches when he opens the door to see you tucked away between towels and winter blankets, like an animal in hibernation rather than a grown human being.
You barely even look up at him, not a word uttered from your lips. No blood at least, so his initial worry of someone attacking you was sated.
“Hide n’ seek, eh? Hard to do that when you leave a bread trail.” He jokes, watching the way you look right through him. Face puffy with dried tears, eyes swollen like you’d been crying for a while.
You look… small. Pitiful. Something tugs at his heart strings, maybe more than it should for his weird little roommate. But Simon doesn’t have the willpower to question it, instead tugging you out from the closet and settling you on the couch instead. The man stares down at you, trying to remember what you do to him when he’s still Ghost and not enough Simon.
Three blankets are wrapped around you, strategically till you’re cocooned in the soft fabric. Simon scrounges through the fridge, finds some leftovers that he heats up and hand feeds to you. Lifts water to your lips, even wipes your face off with a wet towel like you’ve done for him a dozen times before. He’s very pleased when you actually reach out for the first time all evening, using the same towel to wipe away the grit and eye black still smudged on his face.
You end up curling into his lap rather fast once your brain clicks on just enough, curled into his chest like a sad pup. Three blankets swaddle you again, Simon’s hands can’t stop brushing over your frame checking for physical damage. He wants to know what happened- what could’ve caused his roommate to become so overwhelmed they curled into the first dark space they could find.
It couldn’t be serious- you did the same for less, he remembers. You were sensitive- the most human person he’d known in a while, your emotions on your sleeve. He admired it, how you caved and pulled towards every whim- you could actually understand what you were feeling, how to help yourself and how to express it.
So much had happened to him that Simon was nothing but hollow stone most days, empty and echoing brief noise. Simon wasn’t really sure he’d be able to even cry the way you do.
He tucks your face tighter into his pec. Precious thing, you are.
When you fall asleep on his chest, Simon doesn’t dare move.
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