The Phantom's Hero

5. The Billionaire's Basement

Simon tapped away at the keyboard of his computer as blinked away sleep. The illumination of the screen the only source of light in the darkened room, save for a single lamp resting on his bedside table. His basement room, or as many would call a lair, had only a single rectangular window to the world outside. The single window never able to give more than a few inches of light, leaving the room cold in more ways than one.

Everything in the room Simon had ensured to be metal, all cold to the touch and hard. The only soft items being his mattress and the unconscious woman now led atop it. Simon's eyes again drifted to her, and the bandage upon her head. The man grateful for the stark white of the fabric rather than the rich redness of her blood that had soaked through the last few.

He had removed her suit almost an hour earlier, sighing gratefully at the sight of the fitted tank top and shorts she had chosen to wear underneath. Despite her wearing layers, he knew her clothing to be doing nothing to protect her against the stark chill of the room. He dressed her in his favourite sweater and tucked her under his minimal covers.

Once satisfied with her temperature level, he sank into his chair to continue his day job. Rolling up his sleeves and sliding off his mask after an hour of zoned out typing. After another hour, he removed his boots, and after another, he finally allowed himself another glance at the young woman on his bed. Her unconsciousness beginning to worry him as the setting of the sun cast an orange glow from the tiny rectangular window. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he bit his lip before sighing.

"Please wake up." He whispered. "I want to tell you everything."

Biting the bullet, he took to google. He read through three of the offered pages after typing in "How to deal with a concussion." Tentatively, he inched nearer to her with the light of his phone. He gently lifted her eyelids to assess the dilation of her pupils, closing them when they responded normally.

"What am I going to do with you, birdie?" He muttered, a sad smile tugging on his lips. As he pulled away from her, silently declaring to himself that she was fine, his eyes drifted to his bedside table.

Upon it sat his most prized possession, their prom night photo. Simon picked up the photo and allowed his memories to shoot back to him as he rested back in his chair. The smile on her face had always filled him with warmth, and he yearned for her to hold him the way she had back then. Her hands on top of his as he gripped her waist and her nose crinkling slightly from the size of her smile. Her quirky actions and her smiles always managing to put a matching smile on his face.

She had said yes to being his prom date without hesitation, his best friend of ten years refusing him to go to the biggest night of the year without her. The duo coordinating everything in order to match, even going so far as to match their underwear as a private joke.

To match her pale skin and blonde hair, Simon had insisted the duo wear baby pink, the teenage boy excited to rep the colour many had insisted was for girls. He bought her a corsage of pink flowers and matching pink shoes, the boy happy to fund everything for his best friend.

When the day came, Avery, with Simon by her side, made sure to visit her foster mother's room before leaving, promising her that she would be back soon. Simon had brought the dying woman flowers, as he usually did when he visited the home. The petals matching the colour of Avery's dress. He swore to Avery that her mother would be there when she got back, both of them encouraging the girl to have fun.

Once they got to school, the cheerleading captain took Simon into her arms the moment she spotted him. Her sassy black dress reminding him of both a cape and toilet paper as the fragile material inched over the floor behind her.