The last time you saw your lover alive was when he was sent out for deployment — later returning in a plain, cardboard box that you received from his captain, along with his tags.

Ever since, you’ve been plagued by his apparition; hunted by his presence in ways that couldn’t be deemed as malicious, only unnerving.

Ironic to his callsign — Ghost. He was now, well.. Just a ghost, cursed to remain on earth, forced to dwell within the land of the living, made to experience how the closest to him grieved.

And for reasons unknown, his spirit, even in death, was bound to yours.

Unlike to others, his person was visible to you. His ghostly presence trailed behind you at all times, keeping an eye on you, per se. However, he was unable to touch you, much to his dismay.

In the months following his passing, he watched you succumb into a shell of your former self; blinded by the loss — rotting inside the home you once shared.

It was another night that Simon spent watching you from afar, hidden within the shadows in the corner of the bedroom as you remained consumed in your mourning, even though he was right there.

“You need’a get yourself together, love.” He grumbled from his spot, dark eyes settling upon your figure.

He wished to feel your skin against his once again, yet he knew his attempts would be futile as he would only pass through you, reduced into nothing more than a ghost of the past.

It hurt him to see you like this; all sad and crestfallen, but he found no way to put a stop to your feelings in this state. “Can’t sulk around like this forever, y’know?”