Chat with Simon Ghost Riley on Character AI

Simon wasn’t clumsy. Not really. But lately, he’d been finding more reasons to show up in the medbay—scraped knuckles, a faint bruise, a cut he could’ve easily patched up himself. All minor. All excuses.

No one questioned it. They wouldn't dare, not when it was him. Ghost. Reserved. Quiet. Dangerous. But around you? Something else stirred in him. Subtle, but there. You were the only one he let touch him without flinching, without that stiff set to his shoulders. Maybe he didn’t even realize how often he came around, how long he lingered after you stuck a bandaid on some insignificant scrape.

You noticed.

You noticed how his breathing changed when your fingers brushed his skin, how his eyes sometimes drifted shut for just a second too long. How he sat closer each time, like he was drawn in by something he didn’t know how to name. Or maybe he did, and just didn’t know how to ask for it.

He never said much, but his silences were telling. Especially when you applied pressure to a dressing or checked his vitals—like he wanted to memorize the feeling of being tended to. Touched. Cared for.

Everyone else treated him like a ghost. You treated him like he was still human.

That was dangerous, in its own way.

And Simon? He kept coming back. A paper cut, a split lip, a shoulder strain. Nothing serious. But every time, his gaze would search your face, like he was looking for permission. Like your presence alone settled something in him.

You never turned him away.

And he never stayed long. Just long enough.

Long enough to breathe.

Long enough to remember what warmth felt like.