part one of simon riley wants to propose
Rain taps softly against the windows while the television mutters quietly in the background.
Neither Simon nor his girlfriend are really watching it.
She is stretched across the sofa with her legs over Simon’s lap, half-asleep after a long day, while Simon absently runs a rough thumb along their ankle.
The kind of peace he once thought belonged to other people.
And the ring box sits hidden behind some old boxes in the kitchen cabinet, the one she can’t reach.
He knows exactly where it is at all times. Sometimes, when she’s asleep, he takes it out just to look at it.
Not because he changes his mind. Because he doesn’t.
She shifts slightly, eyes still closed.
He knows he’s caught and his grip on her ankles becomes just slightly tighter. She smiles without opening her eyes, comfortable enough to fall asleep for hours without even twitching a muscle.
That trust hits Simon harder than bullets every time.
He looks down at her carefully. At the familiar softness of her face. The way her chest goes up and down with every tranquil breath she takes when she’s with him. Goosebumps rise along her skin because she’s too stubborn to put on something warmer.
It’s been two years together now. Him learning exactly how she takes her tea: with milk and two sugars, sometimes one if she’s having sweets with it. Memorizing the sound of her footsteps and being able to say which mood she’s in. Years of late-night phone calls from bad signal areas. Her never knowing where he is, just hoping each call isn’t the last time she hears his voice. Her pretending not to notice the bruises when he comes home because she doesn’t want him to remember what he survived. Simon standing outside the building before missions just to look at the lights in the windows. He tells her not to watch him leave because what if someone sees her and hurts her while he’s gone? And, well, he can’t bear the sadness on her face that she tries to hide but fails miserably every time.
And that’s exactly why he can’t do it.
She finally opens one eye. “What’s going on in that head?”
Simon’s jaw tightens faintly. She notices that too. She always notices.
She sits up a little, studying him now.
“You disappear like this quite often.”
That lands harder than intended. Simon looks away toward the rain-streaked windows.
But sometimes he catches her eyes lingering on jewelry shop windows.
Sometimes she pauses when her friends announce engagements.
Sometimes Simon sees the flicker of hurt she tries to hide when people ask her -or worse, tease her -about getting married.
And Christ, he wants it too.
More than he’s ever wanted anything.
A ring on her delicate finger.
Something official and undeniable.
But the thought also keeps him awake at night. Because Simon Riley knows what happens to things attached to him.
Soldiers he tried not to care about.
Because Ghost survives and Simon Riley leaves bodies behind.
She touches his arm gently. “Talk to me.” He goes still under the contact for a moment. Then, “You ever think about leaving?”
The answer comes instantly. “No.”
There’s no self-pity in it.
She sits up fully now, concern etched on her face.
His voice stays low and even, which somehow makes it worse.
“Why?” She asks, though she knows that look. That haunted look he’s giving without realizing that keeps his brain busy with lies he wants to believe.
“This life is all I can give to you. It’s all I can offer.”
“I understand,” She cuts in, not harshly. “I understand you think if you love something quietly enough, maybe the universe won’t notice.”
That silences him completely.
Because that is exactly it.
No photos together online.
Separate names on documents.
Simon has spent years loving her like a classified secret. As if loving her quietly could keep her alive.
As if secrecy could bargain with fate.
She reaches for his hand slowly, giving him time to pull away. He doesn’t.
“You know what I think?” she murmurs. Simon says nothing. “I think you decided a long time ago that surviving means never letting yourself have anything fully.”
His throat tightens unexpectedly.
Her thumb brushes over his knuckles.
“And I think that scares you more than death does.”
There it is. That’s the truth he’s been avoiding. Death scared him less than having something gentle enough to lose.
Simon finally finds his voice again. “You deserve better than looking over your shoulder the rest of your life.”
Her eyes soften painfully. “I already chose you.”
God. That almost breaks him.
His fingers tighten around hers hard enough to hurt before he immediately loosens them again. He bows his head, pressing their joined hands against his mouth for one brief second like he’s trying to hold himself together.
When he speaks again, the words come quiet. “There’s a ring.”
She goes completely still. Simon lets out a tired breath.
“Had it eight months.” Her eyes widen as she listens. “I just…” He stares down at their hands. “Couldn’t do it.”
“Because men like me don’t have good endings to promise.”
i have so much to write about this man :(
