Consequences || Simon Ghost Riley

Chapter Twenty-Five || Love & Misfortune

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10:30 PM

"I missed you, little mouse," Simon expressed, showering the crown of her head with gentle pecks, "Promise me, you won't leave again." He murmured prior to settling himself on the boulder. Swiftly, he hoisted her onto his lap, enclosing her within the shield of his robust arms. He endeavored to draw her as near as possible without inflicting any discomfort. As she shut her eyes, she was swallowed by his comforting hold. In that moment, it was as if the world paused, letting only their connection exist. This sensation, powerful yet humbling, was akin to being enveloped in a cozy blanket amidst a chill winter's evening.

     She exhaled heavily, a wave of emotions intensifying within her as she struggled to contain the tears welling up in her eyes. "I missed you too," she whispered, embracing the comfort of his arms around her. She could still sense the dissatisfaction and sorrow that had consumed her on the night she departed, before her release.

     She sucked in an unsteady breath, steeling herself for the impending dialogue. "But you advocated for the release," She uttered, her voice flickering as the wave of tears threatened to consume her completely. Her words were raspy, her throat contracting with each syllable as the emotional tidal wave surged within her.

     "I didn't fucking know what to do, it felt like I was spiraling." Her heart fragmented into countless shards, each inflicting immense pain. However, tangled within her deep-seated sorrow was a fierce resentment, a raging inferno originating from her very core, threatening to consume her entirely.

     He gently shook his head, the motion saturated with a profound sense of lingering regret, a testament to a myriad of missed opportunities and unsaid words. He leant in, tenderly planting a kiss on the cool tip of her nose, while his fingers brushed back the stray locks of her rusty hair from her face. His honey eyes gripped with a telltale harshness softened considerably, meeting hers in a moment of shared understanding and unveiled vulnerability. They swam in a sea of countless apologies—each one a world more sorrowful, remorseful, and distressing than the previous—that remained unspoken, trapped in the throes of time, yet clamoring to break free.

     "I'm so fucking sorry," he conveyed, his voice barely above a whisper and thick with remorse, "If only I could turn back the clock and rewrite everything."

     A moment of silence lapsed before she ultimately found the words, "I forgive you," she declared in a murmur.

     As their eyes met through the shield of his mask, Sky felt an indescribable connection flowing between them. Without a deliberate thought, her hand lingered at the edge of his balaclava. Swiftly, with the precision and poise of a sword in battle, she drew it over his head, delicately placing it on the rock.

     Tenderly, almost reverently, her fingers traced the contour of his roughhewn cheek. A sense of intense compassion, reminiscent of the fusion of a summer storm and a deep-set sunrise, welled in her eyes. She examined his face in rigorous detail, the unique lines that mapped his life's experiences drawing her in. Each curve, each scar, she absorbed, consuming them all like a potent shot of whiskey. Each feature carried a narrative, and with silent awe, she drank in his silent tales, gaining a deeper understanding of the man beneath the mask.

     "You have no idea how much I've missed you." Her voice was just a whisper as he lifted his hand to touch hers. Abruptly, he merged his lips with hers in a passionate manner, every bit of the world around them disappearing.

     In a heartbeat, she broke away from their passionate embrace, her pulse echoing a fervent drumbeat in her ears. Their bodies were so close, separated by mere millimeters; the gentle warmth of his breath danced on her lips as their eyes locked.