Before, when ghost was still Simon and his mom still looked presentable enough to go out in public, she would take him and Tommy out to the pier near their house.
He can still remember; every Friday night after dinner, when his dad passed out in front of the television. The three of them would sneak out of the house and Simon would giggle, pretending as if they were ninjas, holding onto little Tommy’s pudgy body. His mom would buy him a tiny little ice cream cone for each of them and sit at the boardwalks, watching the sun go down for its rest.
“Have you ever heard of the green flash, Simon?” She would hum, green eyes near sparking in the golden hour.
“Nope.” He popped his lips at the last letter, his lips sticky from the dessert.
“Just when the sun sets, there’s a slight moment where at the veeeerrry horizon - there, you see?” She points to where the sun is now meeting the sea, Simon squinting dramatically and placing his hand above his eyes.
“…yeah.”
“Just for a split second, you can’t blink or you’ll miss it. A green flash will appear just after the sun disappears.”
“You’re lying!”
“I’m not! I’m being dead serious!” She straightens her back, an amused smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as she holds a sleeping Tommy to her chest. Simon swings his legs back and forth, contemplating.
“Look, just see for yourself. It’s gonna happen soon.” A small, childish tone laces her words as they both turn to the horizon, eyes zoned in on where the sun is setting.
Sure enough - right as the sun collapses into a bright ball peeking over the sea, a bright, almost inconspicuous green flash appears.
“I saw it! I saw it!” Simon vibrates in excitement, pointing at the sea and smiling brightly at his mom. She smiles back, smile lines appearing and wrinkles returning as she giggles.
“See? Wasn’t that awesome?”
“So awesome!”
Simon keeps that memory tucked closely next to his cold heart, one of the few good memories of his childhood he can still remember vividly. The smell of the ocean, the stickiness of his lips and hands, the texture of wet wood under his fingertips, his mother’s lopsided smile, the sound of the ocean and the exact shade of green that appeared.
He knows that shade of green like the back of his hand. He knows it because none of the trees, leaves, grass ever came close to how intense it was. Simon used to naively believe that that shade of green was only special for him and his mother. (Sans Tommy, because he was asleep)
But now, staring into Johnny, his Johnny’s eyes, the same exact shade of green that appeared in the sky 25 years ago, Simon doesn’t believe that anymore. The same shade of green smoke plumes up behind Johnny, surrounding him like a possessive hug. It felt sickeningly wrong. His eyes aren’t green. His eyes aren’t green. He knows it because he’s spent the last 478 days burning the image of him into his mind, not wanting to forget him, ever. His eyes aren’t green.
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Just dropping in to say that I see all your asks, there are quite a few longer ones in there right now!
I'm running a short D&D campaign this evening, so I will likely be responding to them a little later than usual!
You guys keep giving me all kinds of great ideas sdlfkjf keep 'em coming lol!
I'll get to the longer asks tonight or tomorrow, I promise! 💕
I am also working on writing still. I'm currently thinking of a single word for Arrie's story, but I'm also like... is that enough? One word title??? Considering the many thousands of words the actual story is, maybe one word is more than enough 😫
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