Phantom ~ [Simon Ghost Riley]

Bonus: A Hopeless One

Simon "Ghost" Riley ~ 00:47

The wind howls past my visor, some cold air slipping through the small opening. The hum of my motorcycle vibrating beneath me calms me down like always, filling in some of the thoughts I'd rather not consider.

It's later than I would have hoped.

I was supposed to be done at 10, gear off and laying on her couch at 10.30, but Price and I were forced to stay behind longer.

Before, I had no problem with staying behind. Work—sleep—back to work. That's all it ever was before. But ever since she became part of it, things had been different.

Every time I was asked to stay behind, forced to focus on work tasks during the time I was supposed to spend with her, I slowly felt myself growing more and more irritated with each minute that passed.

It's not that my dedication to this job has gotten less serious. In fact, I feel like it has only grown. It's just that I've learned to appreciate the time outside of work. Something I wouldn't even think twice about before.

I had let her know that I'd be later, and that I wasn't sure at what time I'd be there. She said she'd stay up, waiting for me, even though I told her it was okay for her to go to sleep.

Pulling up to her apartment complex, I park my bike next to her car. The engines' echoes linger in the still night air as I dismount, feeling the vibrations gradually fade away. The low hum of distant traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves create a serene background to the urban setting.

After switching off the machinery, I get my helmet off of my head, leaving the skull-painted balaclava on.

The apartment complex looms above me. A soft glow emanates from her unit, though I know it's not necessarily a confirmation of the fact that she's awake.

She's quick to fall asleep, mostly.

I'm jealous of her sometimes.

As I approach the entrance, the overhead light casts a warm pool of illumination. Reaching her floor, I walk down the hallway, hand hooked into my helmet. When I'm nearly there, I quietly take the key that fits her door, making sure not to make too many sounds.

The second the key touches the door, Bagel's paws sound on the other side of it, seemingly in an attempt to dig a hole through the material.

I quickly open the door, closing it behind me as quietly as possible as no sounds come from the TV anymore.

Bagel jumps up my leg, her claws digging into the thick fabric of my pants as she climbs all the way up my leg. If it weren't for the old pants, I wouldn't have let her. "Hey, baby," I pull her up once she's high enough and she immediately bumps her head into my jaw.

Her loud purrs fill the entire apartment, as the rest of it is entirely quiet. My gaze falls on the couch where a bunched-up blanket lies, covering something beneath it.

She's asleep.

With her cat resting on one of my arms, I take off my combat boots and the rest of the gear I can lose, dropping my bag on the ground near the door. The balaclava finds its way off too, and I place it on top of my bag.

As I approach the couch, the bunched-up blanket reveals the peaceful form beneath it. There she is, cocooned in warmth, completely unaware of my late arrival. Guilt tugs at me for being here so late, especially seeing her on the couch like this.

For the sake of her comfort, I wish she'd just gone to bed. But on the other side, I feel warmth, recognizing her attempt at waiting for me.

Carefully, I lower myself onto the end of the couch, Bagel still in my arms as she too watches over her.