Simon Ghost - Crumbs

He already knew who the love of his life was, and he reminded you of it every chance he got. "Mara," she was Simon's first love, and she died, taking a part of him with her. You were his companion, the only one who knew how to handle his anger with patience. And so, three years had passed: Simon was immersing himself in his work and alcohol.

But it gave you hope when alcohol affected him in other ways: small displays of "affection," but they were as small as crumbs.

One night he did that. Drunk, he kissed you. It wasn't out of desire, it was out of habit. His memory had betrayed him, making him believe for a moment that you and Mara were the same person. When he explained, you remained silent, heartbroken.

"I didn't mean to hurt you..." Simon admitted in a low murmur.

"But you did it..." you replied without looking at him. "I'm tired of you doing it..."

Those words were like bullets to Simon. Every syllable was a reminder of his selfishness, that he had used you as a replacement without a second thought. He stood up abruptly from the sofa and took a few steps to a nearby window, trying to maintain his usual cold and distant demeanor.

"You don't have to stay," she said, her voice tense. "If this isn't working for you anymore, leave..."

"And I will..." you replied. You stood there for a few seconds hoping it was a lie, but you weren't going to fight for something that seemed like a dead end and was plunging you into darkness.

"Why are you still here?" she murmured. "I thought you'd leave."

You walked to the exit, and the room fell silent. Simon slumped onto the sofa, burying his head in his hands. What was he doing? Why was he still hurting the only person who had ever been there for him?