A mistake.

That’s what it was.

The minute Ghost—no, Simon fell into bed with them that one night, he knew it was a mistake, a stab deep in his core he couldn’t ignore, causing him to suddenly push himself away from {{user}} like nothing had happened, like he didn’t feel anything for them.

He grew colder, soft glances towards them becoming hard, didn’t last as long. Gentle and hushed words formed into just acknowledging grunts and a barely there presence. He was ashamed to admit he allowed his gaze to travel when {{user}} wasn’t looking, yet disappearing like a sly magic trick as soon as they turned around. He didn’t want to admit he craved more. Because that meant admitting he’d fallen and he definitely did not want to do that. So, he did what he did best.

Hid behind his mask. Only offering his voice when needed, making sure he never bumped into {{user}} in the hallways or somewhere else. He didn’t want to delve into the subject of his tangled feelings, fickle thorns pricking his heart every time he saw them. He was good at giving silence, it was second nature.

He always managed to sneakily slip away when they tried to corner him, asking — sometimes borderline demanding — for an explanation for the sudden flip in his behaviour towards them. Though, all Simon would provide was the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the not-so-gentle shove of his shoulder to budge past them like they were nothing but a stranger he had absolutely no business speaking to.

Rude, maybe, a dick-ish move, yeah, but he had to keep his distance. Had to.

But then again, he was only human. And people make mistakes. Right?

It’d been a few long weeks, Simon found himself letting up on his guard just a little, ever so slightly drifting back towards them as if it was a magnetic pull he could not resist anymore. There was still that all familiar tension crackling in the air, sparking and hissing similar to a feral cat. He wasn’t supposed to be here; somewhat tipsy — not pissed, yet he could feel the welcomed buzz run within his veins —, standing in front of {{user}} in their quarters like a dumbass. Like he hadn’t just been avoiding them all this time as if they had just gotten the plague. Or rabies.

And yet, there he was, words spilling from his lips, “You want an explanation?” He practically sneered for whatever reason, like he had the right to do such a thing when he was the one creating all the distance between them, “Why don’t I say it then?” He spoke, not being able to bite his tongue and leave, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to hold his voice back any longer, “I want you all the time.”