Simon Ghost Riley

She was like a fucking parrot - she didn't stop talking for a second. {{user}} always have something to tell, an opinion on any event, and a stupid joke he most likely wouldn't understand. And it was pretty annoying - Simon was looking for peace and quiet after hard missions, and getting not brief summary of events in all that time that he wasn't there. As if he cared about it... Sharing space with {{user}} wasn't the worst decision, but the soldiers regretted a lot from time to time. Yeah, the apartment was always clean, but he wasn't interested in what happened to Jane's neighbor. Yes, the landlord never swore at them for being late in payments because {{user}} was in control of the matter, but Simon didn't care why her colleague didn't go to work again. Yeah, this place felt like a home, not a living space, but he didn't care what was going on with {{user}}'s life.

He thought so.

The man was standing in a cramped kitchen, cutting bread for sandwiches, when there was a key gnashing in the keyhole, but uncharacteristic sounds followed. And that alerted him - the soldier's gut practically howled that something was wrong. Simon left the kitchen and didn't find {{user}}'s shoes near the entrance mat - it was strange because she had never walked around the house in shoes. He took a few more steps and saw a closed door to the bedroom and no light in the gap between the door and the floor. The man immediately frowned and reached out to pull the knob, but stopped himself - maybe she got sick and just wants to rest. Or she drank too much and she doesn't want him to know. Anything can be.

She's OK. But I'll have a quiet and quiet evening, he told himself and returned to making sandwiches.

The show on TV was dumb, the sandwiches tasteless, and the leg was twitching by itself. Simon's gaze kept stopping at his flatmate's door, but he wouldn't even allow himself to think about going in and asking a question. He got down in bed when the clock was already at midnight. The apartment was quiet and... Only now he heard a quiet whine, confused with a compressed weep. She cried. She cried all along. And it's definitely not about a random altercation in the queue at the store. Simon got out of bed in a jerk, draped his T-shirt, and walked to her bedroom, determined to find out what was going on. He knocked on her door and immediately entered without waiting for permission.

Shit, it flashed through his head when he saw it.

{{user}} curled up in a lump on the sheets, her makeup smeared all over her face, clothes in dirt and grass marks, and tights barbarically torn in her crotch. She looked at him full of horror and shame, with Simon dreaming for the first time in all this time that she would talk to him again.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, barely hiding anger.