𝘒ö𝘯𝘪𝘨 / 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

only he cares about you pt 2 {Ghost}

If your idioticy to starve yourself wasn't going to kill you sooner, Simon deemed he just might do the deed himself.

"You act as if I need you to survive." You said.

It was a simple thing to understand. Really.
He saved you.
Saved. You.
How could you be so stupid and not realize that?

"Because you do, y/n."

"I don't."

'God help me before I fucking kill this girl.' He thought to himself.

"Really? Let's see now. I was the one who bothered to track you down. I was the one who risked everything to make sure you were still fucking alive."

His voice almost terrifyingly low as his fingers grasped your chin. Your defiant attitude pissed him off more than it should.

"And what do you do? You cry. You act like a spoiled little brat who won't eat her dinner. All I want from you is to eat so you could gain some fucking weight."

His breath smelt of his cologne and coffee from his usual morning routine.
Wake up.
Brush his teeth.
Eat.
Drink his coffee.
Go to work.
Come back home.
Eat.
More coffee.
Then of course, check up on you.

"Bloody hell, you have such an attitude problem. Every moment I've spent with you, every bloody minute I've spent was to try to help you, and now all you can do is give me your fucking attitude?"

He was a completely different person.
One minute he was trying to convince you that he cared, and the next, he was yelling at you like he hated you.

"I—I'll eat, okay! I'll eat the food! You're hurting me!" You scrambled out your words, your fingers grasping his arm desperately in attempt to free yourself.

You were starting to panic.
You could feel yourself starting to cry again as you tried to push away his arm.

"If you think this hurts, then you don't know even know what pain is." He paused, his head tilting slightly. "Ah I forgot, you do know how painful shit hurts. You were what, tortured for 3 months? And yet this is hurting you?"

You let out a choked sob, your eyes began to tear up, despite the fact that you tried not to. "Everything hurts."

"That's because of your weak body. If you just ate like a normal person, you wouldn't be so fucking weak."

He was a conflicted man.
He wanted to love you.
Truly.
Simon just didn't know how to show it the right way.

"...I'm sorry." You didn't even know what you were apologizing for.

A smile fell upon his lips as he now cradled your face in his hands. "It's alright, love. You're still recovering after all. Can't imagine it's easy to take in food that easily."

Simon couldn't help himself, how could he?
His obsession was a terrible thing, his twisted love for you had already taken over his life.

"Just a few bites, alright? Doesn't even have to be the whole damn plate, just a few spoonfuls."

His whole mindset had grown into a strange kind of codependency with you.
It made him feel good.
Made him feel like he was the only person who could take care of you.
The only person that could make you feel safe.

And if he wasn't here to protect you, who would?

You forced down a few spoonfuls of food, fighting back the urge to throw it back up. He smiled proudly at you.

"See? Wasn't so hard." He praised.

This was Simon at his most manipulative. This would be his tactic; to act kind and sweet after a fight to show how much he worried for you.

"Good girl. That's my girl, eh?"

He wouldn't change. Nothing would change if everything else remained constant; you hear, with him with no chance of leaving him.
Everything would remain the same as long as he still had that control.

Weeks have passed.
You began to eat your food again, granted that your stomach managed to hold some amount of calories.

His mood would continue to fluctuate wildly, though the happy moods were always accompanied by a little bit of sweetness.

It would make the other times in between that much worse, when his temper flared, but he knew those sweet moments would be enough for you to forget everything else.

And soon enough, you'd be begging for him to come home sooner.

But if course, not everything always goes according to plan.

He came home in a rush.
Anger evident on his face as he fumbled to take off your chain, practically dragging you up the stairs.

He was caught.
He knew.
They were coming.

You were starting to see that there wasn't a single thing in his life that wasn't a trigger for him.

Simon was a broken man and you were now on shaky grounds all over again.

He pulled you along, not waiting for you to adjust to walking again. At first you were dazed, confused until your senses kicked back in after weeks of being unable to fight back.

You tried to pull back, kicking and screaming, only to be met with his hand grabbing your jaw as he paused mid step.

"Another sound out of your mouth and I'll make sure the only way you can eat is from a fucking tube."

You were doing so well. He was doing so well, keeping you safe and hidden.
This was the furthest you had come with the recovery from your freak accident.

He wasn't going to let someone else take you away. Not now.

You nodded quickly, the look in his eye was terrifying, the way he gripped your jaw felt familiar, reminding you how much control he truly had.

"That's what I thought."

His grip loosened as he continued to drag you upstairs, your feet sliding along the hardwood floor as he pulled you alongside him.

"The bloody fuckers found us." He muttered under his breath.

"W—who?" You willed yourself to pry for information as he tossed you onto his bed, shoving a sweater your way.

"Just shut up and get dressed." He was angry, maybe even a bit scared.

His sweater was too big as you slipped them on. He grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up against his chest, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder as he walked out.

"Simon, you're hurting me, please—"

He clutched your waist.
Too tight, really.
There was no way he would let you fall now, no way he'd let you slip away that easily.

"Just be a good girl and be quiet, yeah? Can you do something simple as that?"

This was bad.
The closer you got to being saved, the harder he clung onto you.

"...yes."

Was this even really saving you from anything, or was he just saving himself from being locked up?
Did it ever truly matter?
He loved you...didn't he?
You doubted it.

Oh, but he did love you, y/n.
He obsessed over you, loved you when no one else did. Perhaps it was messed up, what he did so far, but this was his definition of love to him.

No one would come and rip you away from him. He would make sure of that.

"Atta girl, just be quiet, alright?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when you heard it; the click of the gun.
Your eyes widened when you saw a man standing in the hallway pointing a gun...

...at you.

"Simon—!"