Cabin Fever (BXB)

It Was Not A Misunderstanding But A Lie

The afternoon goes by pretty quickly, and we don't come back down. We lie on Simon's bed for a long while, not really talking, but just being together. I feel like Simon needs me more now than before, since this whole thing is kind of my fault. It's...I don't know, this thing inside me that sees a problem and goes, "I can fix that". This is no different. I just know it. If I can figure out the answer to the Prom Theme Crisis of 2018, I can fix this. This is just another problem that needs sorting out. Maybe offer some outsiders advice while I'm at it. I vow by the end of this, the Hopkins family will be laughing and closer-knit than ever.

I make a mental note to wash the sheets. They feel dusty.

Simon gets up and goes for his bag. He has that downbeatten, tired look on his face. He seems more sad than normal, too. "I have some work I need to do."

"Simon, take the day off."

"The deadline's tomorrow."

"Email them saying something came up," I say, sitting forward. I hold his hand. "They'll understand."

"I can tell you now, they won't."

"Simon."

He's already seated at the end of the bed, slipping his legs into what little space there is under the desk and propping up his laptop to work.

I sigh and glance around the room, wondering what to do, but I want to be near him. Quietly supportive, I guess, but even that doesn't seem like enough when he's in this mood. I kneel behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. To feel closer, to remind him that he isn't alone. "I love you, Simon."

Simon deflates. He wraps a hand around my arm.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too."

"No. Don't be. Don't. I was the one who said we should do this. I, I didn't know..."

He lets out a soft grunt. "To your credit, I didn't tell you."

"...why?"

"You wouldn't have understood."

"You don't know that."

"You're not into guys exclusively."

"I'm into you, so it doesn't matter," I mumble, hugging him a little tighter. "I would've listened. I love you. Isn't that enough?"

He doesn't say anything. Simon closes his eyes and lets out a little breath. "I love you, too," he whispers back, turning to me. He has that sad, desolate look in his eyes.

I turn his head and kiss him, and nothing about it isn't perfect. It's a quick one, but I could go on kissing him for at least the rest of the day if he'd let me. Simon Hopkins kisses better than anyone I've ever kissed before. I put my hands on his face and feel the gentle stubble under my fingertips. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You say that now – "

"I'll say that always. Until you're absolutely sick of me, and then some."

He holds me a little tighter.

It's a sign. I know what it means. I shuffle beside him and kiss him again. When I pull back, his cornflower blue eyes are on me, and the only reason I know this is because I forced him to sit down while I figured out what color his eyes were. Not because I just wanted to stare at him more. "I forget how pretty your eyes are."

Simon starts frowning.

"Like the summer sky."

He scoffs. "And I forget how fuckin' cheesy you are."