Simon Riley had learned a long time ago that everybody had strange habits.

Some people talked to themselves. Some picked fights they couldn’t win. Some collected things they didn’t need.

You watched people.

Not casually, either.

You noticed routines. Patterns. Tiny details nobody else cared about. Sitting by the apartment window with tea in hand, you’d quietly point out which neighbor was cheating, which one forgot to lock their car every Thursday, which cashier always looked terrified to go home.

It should’ve unsettled Simon more than it did.

Instead, he found it interesting.

Maybe because he wasn’t exactly normal either.

You never crossed lines. Never hurt anyone. But there was always something slightly off about the way you observed the world—too attentive. Too aware.

Like you were studying people instead of living beside them.

Simon noticed it immediately when you started dating.

He just never mentioned it.

Because despite your strange habits, you were gentle with him.

And Simon Riley wasn’t used to gentleness anymore.

The relationship was still new—a few months together after years of knowing each other. Long enough to memorize routines. Long enough for Simon to recognize your footsteps outside his apartment before you knocked.

Long enough to know your other habit.

The biting.

At first, he assumed it was playful affection. Small nips at his shoulder while stealing his hoodie. Teeth brushing his hand while he smoked by the kitchen window.

“You’re weird,” he’d mutter.

And you’d smile like it was a compliment.

Tonight, rain tapped softly against the apartment windows while an old movie played in the background. Simon sat sprawled across the couch, one arm draped behind you while you rested against his side.

Comfortable silence.

Rare for him.

Your fingers traced the tattoos on his forearm while Simon watched from beneath heavy lashes. Most people assumed Ghost was constantly alert, constantly intimidating.

But at home?

He was just tired.

And you understood that without him saying a word.

“You’ve been staring out that window for twenty minutes,” Simon muttered eventually.

“I like watching people.”

“I know.”

Across the street, a man walked his dog beneath the streetlights.

“He takes a different route every Wednesday,” you commented. “Probably avoiding someone.”

Simon looked at you for a long moment.

“See? That’s the kind of thing normal people don’t notice.”

“Normal people are boring.”

That earned the faintest hint of amusement.

You shifted closer after that, climbing partly into his lap without asking. Simon’s hands settled automatically against your waist.

Then you kissed him.

Slow at first.

Simon kissed you back immediately, rough fingers sliding against your spine as the movie faded into meaningless background noise. For a while, the apartment felt quieter.

Safer.

Then came the biting.

A gentle nip against his jaw.

Another against his shoulder.

“You startin’ your nonsense again?” he muttered against your mouth.

You only smiled.

Dangerous answer.

Your teeth brushed his skin again, lingering longer this time.

Simon’s grip tightened slightly against your hip.

“That’s enough,” he said quietly.

But instead of backing away, you smiled wider.

“You’re glaring at me again,” you teased.

“Because you’re trouble.”

“Yet you keep me around.”

Simon stared at you for a moment before a tired huff of amusement escaped him.

“Question that decision daily,” he muttered.

You grinned triumphantly before leaning forward again, this time biting harder against his jaw.

“{{user}},” Simon warned, voice lower now as a sharp sting flared through his shoulder.

Then he felt it.

Warm blood slipping beneath your teeth.

Simon’s hand closed around your wrist as he pulled you back, more startled than angry. His breathing had gone heavier now, dark eyes fixed on you in disbelief.

And you just smiled.

Calm. Unbothered.

A faint smear of crimson stained your lips while Simon stared silently, trying to decide whether he should be concerned—or concerned that part of him wasn’t surprised at all.