okay hear me out— softness and gentle topics aside, how would older bf!simon go about discussing his mom & Tommy? would it ever occur? Would it be a vulnerable and gentle discussion with sins laid on the table or would it be like pulling teeth— panic attack arises and the words are spewing.
at first I’d have headcanoned it that maybe we innocently question the clinginess but I’m not so sure anymore; feels like that would just be second nature for the two.
i’ve never ventured into this topic because it’s literally so devastating that i almost considered writing it out of canon for him- but it’s time 🫶🏼 (massive tw for family loss)
the day older bf!simon tells you about his family, it’s at breakfast.
he’d made the food and you’d made the coffee, both expertly passing each other in your kitchen until you’d settled at the table.
when he told you, you had toast hanging out your mouth.
“pardon?”
“i had a family”
you weren’t really talking about anything in particular, so you made quick mental work of skimming over your conversation until you found where this was coming from.
sunny outside, nice day, should go to the farmers market, get groceries, it’ll be crowded, family day-
i had a family
had.
oh.
your heart had start to speed up in your chest and part of you was scared simon’s military precision hearing would be able to tell.
judging by the look on his face, distant, quiet- he couldn’t hear the thrumming against your sternum.
you were thankful, it meant he kept speaking.
“my mum and my brother, tommy- he had a missus too and a kid”
had.
oh god.
he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze drifted out the window and onto the birds that were floating over the fruit tree in the backyard.
you couldn’t say there was much of you to look at, a hardline of your mouth and eyes that were willing themselves not to water.
“they weren’t in a good way- but i helped them get better”
the corners of your lips quirked reflexively but it fell away just as quickly, unable to escape the voice in the back of your head that kept saying the same thing.
had.
why is every thing in the past tense?
probably for the same reason this is the first time you’re hearing this story. when is the right time to get to this part?
the moment he cuts the rope, lets you down from where he’s had you hanging- you wish you could react in any other way.
instead, your mouth hangs open while your hand does its best to cover it.
the toast goes cold, so does the coffee.
the tears break through of their own accord.
and he still won’t look at you.
“oh, simon”
your mind races in a way you’ve never felt before, thoughts you’d never had before rising to the surface.
first, you want to hurt someone, anyone- whoever you can blame for doing this to simon.
(you quickly realise he’s probably already done that)
second, you want to take him by the shoulders and tell him that this was never his fault.
that there was nothing he did or could’ve done to deserve this.
and you’re sure that there’s layers to his job and things he’s done and seen that’d make him think that cannot be true.
but you don’t care- there is no human alive that could ever deserve what you’ve just been told.
you don’t care.
you love him.
third, you start to make sense of some of simon’s behaviours.
the way he calls your name when you’re at the other end of the house, just to know where you are.
the way you can turn around at any given moment and find him closer than your shadow.
the way he calls you on deployment only to hear you tell him you love him and you’re still home waiting.
the way he cannot exist without a hand on you, without knowing where you are, without knowing you’re still his.
and there you go again, wanting to hurt whoever put him in this position.
grateful to be able to love him how he needs but angry- blind rage in knowing what he went through to get to this point.
it’s why you’re out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his shoulders the minute you hear even a sniff.
you let him ruin your shirt with tears as strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so close into him you wouldn’t be at all surprised if the particles shifted just enough for you to become one.
as if you weren’t already.
you’d never, never ever, questioned simon’s ever present need to be close. you’d come to accept it, enjoy it, miss it when he was gone.
it was never overbearing, never out of line, always right when you needed it.
reminding you that he was there.
that he loved you.
that he needed you.
just as much as you needed him.
and god, did he need to be needed.
did he need you to pass him the pickle jar (even when you could open it just fine)
did he need you to make him take the rubbish out (when you could do it yourself)
did he need you to call him when the car was making a funny sound (when you knew it was the fan belt)
did you need him to pull you into his lap at the end of a long day and rest his lips against the crown of your head as he rubbed slow circles into your back.
like you were doing for him now.
“simon, i just need you to know- i’m not going anywhere”
you made it to the farmer’s market, eventually. it was crowded, meaning simon’s arm never let your waist.
not that you mind.
not that you ever mind.
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