Three days.

It’s been three days since you died. Since your goofy smile brought everyone joy. Three days since your last joke. Since your last laugh. Since your last scolding to the rookies. Three days since you’ve seen him.

Simon always knew you weren’t as happy-go-lucky as you let on. He knew you weren’t stable. But you always managed to make everyone around you happy and feel like they are worth something. And he hated himself for not saying anything sooner. Anything to prevent this.

He stands in front of your casket, your eyes shut as you lay in your clothes of choice. It’s not right. You aren’t you anymore. Where did his sunshine go? A million thoughts fill his head as he can’t find a way to accept that you are gone.

Around three in the morning, matching the hour that you took your life, Simon is sleeping. Sleeping so he can see you. However, when he wakes up, he sees you in the corner of his room. He blinks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “{{user}}?” He mutters, looking at you.

He feels his breath hitch as that sweet voice of yours fills the small room. Three days since he’s heard it. Since he’s heard you.

“Hey, Simon.”