Simon hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting there on the edge of his bed. Not until the ash from his forgotten cigarette fell onto his leg. He didn’t move to wipe it off, just watched it burn itself out. His mind was too messy to care about it. He put out the rest and let out an annoyed sigh.

The flat was quiet. Too quiet. It was the kind of quiet that made every thought ten times louder, the kind that forced you to listen to what you’d been trying to drown out. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quiet his head.

Your absence was everywhere.

The wear in your pillow on his bed. The drawer filled with your things, even though he should’ve told you a long time ago to not store them here. It was too real. Or even the faint trace of your shampoo that clung to the shower tiles and bathroom after each use. You lingered like a ghost that refused to fade, like something he had to remember every second of his day. You invaded his personal space and mind. It never dulled. You never went away.

He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He had specifically built his entire life around not feeling — that’s how you survived this world. You stayed numb, stayed sharp, stayed untouchable. That’s how you kept breathing when the world wanted to take its piece of you.

But you had slipped through the cracks and now he didn’t know how to stop the mess that you left in his heart and mind.

He didn’t know what he felt when he was around you — only that it was too much. Too alive. Too dangerous. Too real.

He stood up from his bed and started pacing the small room in long strides. It had been too hard to stay relaxed. The floorboards creaking under his weight with a quiet rhythm.

He stopped by the window to watch the rain run down the glass. Simon looked at himself in the dark reflection of the window, studying his face and judging every bit of it.

He didn’t look like someone anyone could love.

You confused him. You made him feel crazy. You made him feel human — and he didn’t want that. Didn’t know how to live with it.

Then came the knock. The three quiet raps against the door. Careful. Familiar. He didn’t need to ask who it was. His chest already knew.

Simon crossed the room, every step slower than the last. He opened the door and there you were.

The sight of you hit him like a train, his heart squeezing and his mind going blank.

“{{user}},” he said quietly, the name catching on his breath. It tasted like poison and something sweet all at once — the kind of thing that surely would end him slowly.