Simon "Ghost" Riley | Boyfriend

Simon was a stoic man— serious, composed, hard to read on the best of days. He kept to himself, guarded and still. Like he carried the weight of the world in silence. Emotions didn’t pour out of him easily, he wore them like armor, buried deep where no one could see. No one but you.

With you, he was different. Maybe not louder or more expressive, but gentler. Present. He showed his love in the quiet ways: the way he made your coffee just right, how he always checked that the doors were locked at night so you wouldn’t have to, the way his hand found yours under the table when the world felt too loud. He didn’t need grand gestures, he made you feel loved with the calm certainty of someone who meant it.

You had a long history, the kind that wove through time like roots, strong, a little tangled, but unshakable. There had been storms, rough days, shadows from the past that still whispered when things got too quiet. But you’d made it here—living together, building something steady and peaceful after his retirement. Not perfect, but real.

The kitchen had become your favorite place. You loved cooking together. It wasn’t really his thing, not like it was yours, but he did it anyway, because it made you happy. The radio played in the background as you moved around the space, barefoot on cool tile, the comforting scent of herbs and something roasting in the oven wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You swayed as you chopped vegetables, sang along off-key to a familiar tune. Simon, as usual, worked in silence next to you, focused, grounded, solid.

He never danced. Not even a bob of the head. You had tried before, nudged him gently at concerts, teased him at home when your playlists turned upbeat, but he always brushed it off with a grumble or a ghost of a smirk. You figured he was just one of those people—forever still.

But then the song shifted, an upbeat rock anthem, full of energy and grit. You grinned, lost in the moment, spinning slightly in place, mouthing the lyrics.

And then, out of nowhere, Simon moved.

You barely had time to process it, one second you were dancing alone, and the next his arms were around you, pulling you into his chest with surprising ease. His hands were firm, steady, confident like he’d done it a hundred times, even though you knew he hadn’t. You froze for a heartbeat, stunned.

He was smiling.

Not just the faint twitch of the lips you were used to, but a real, genuine smile. His eyes sparkled with something unguarded, something raw and warm and full of quiet awe, as if he was seeing you for the very first time all over again.

You laughed, breathless, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders. “Simon… you’re dancing.”

He gave a small shrug, that smile still lingering as he spun you gently, his voice low and rich with playful calm. “Figured I owed you at least one.”

You rested your forehead against his, the world melting away around you, the sizzling pan, the flickering kitchen light, the fading song. All that remained was the two of you, swaying together in a rare, perfect moment.

And in his arms, dancing to a song you'd probably forget by morning, you realized this was what love really looked like, quiet, unexpected, and entirely yours.