Quiet Tension

Official

It's a bit of a sudden announcement, one that I'm a little startled by. "What?" I ask, blinking up at him.

"You look a bit pale, my love," he says, and I try to think nothing of the pet name. "And I'm sure you're tired, after the weekend we had," he says, a bit more quietly.

I just blink again, and he turns to the group. "Thanks for having us," he says, and I nod in agreement as he slings my bag over his shoulder and ushers me up. I turn to wave goodbye to everyone, who smile back and immediately return to their conversation.

Flora, though, makes a text me motion with her hands, before turning back around.

Simon already has me halfway to the door, his large hand heavy on the small of my back.

Once we're outside in the night air, he picks me up by the waist, hoisting me up over his shoulder, before speed-walking us to the car.

"What are you doing?" I shriek before he sits me in the seat, handing me my purse, which, by the way, looked hilarious on his massive shoulders, before quickly walking around the front of his truck and getting in the drivers seat.

He says nothing, instead driving us to an empty parking lot of a long-abandoned industrial plant, after seven minutes of silence.

"Why not just go back to my house?" I ask, my voice growing small as he unbuckles himself and turns to me. I nervously smack my gum, which I put in to prevent pizza-breath from filling the cab of the truck. And also to give myself something else to focus on instead of my anxiety.

"Because this was much closer."

"By three minutes," I say, calculating the drive back onto base, and to my house, as ten minutes.

"Three more minutes was too long. Now, tell me." Simon turns to face me, unbuckling.

"Tell you what?"

"What is going on with you?" he asks, tugging his mask off, and I realize how loud I'm chewing my gum, so I spit it out into the wrapper and drop the trash into my purse. I hold the bag tightly, like a stuffed animal, which I would have preferred to have been holding during this conversation rather than being in a dusty back corner of a dark parking lot.

"Nothing," I lie. It's obvious.

"Something," he says.

"I just don't like the words, let's talk later," I say.

He blinks once, twice, three times, before breaking into a smile. "That was meant to be something to look forward to, not be nervous about."

"Yes, but I don't know if we are on the same page about everything, and I don't want to overstep..."

He plucks the bag out of my lap, digging around before taking a piece of gum for himself. Cinnamon. I always keep a variety. It's like he's not listening to me.

"Oh," I say. "Sorry, I didn't realize-"

"I'm just not paying any of your worries any mind, that's all," he says, for a brief moment sounding like a grandmother with his words, despite his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me why you're worried," he prompts, instead, placing my bag on the dash.

I sigh, twisting my fingers together. "I know I seem like a bitch," I say.

"You are a bitch," Simon interjects, blowing a bubble with the gum. "But I like it."

I continue on, already determined with what I'm going to say. "But I'm actually really sensitive, because I would love to be a couple with you, but I'm worried you only pursued me so you could sleep with me and like, check that challenge off your list, and that you don't actually feel anythign serious towards me other than physical attraction."

Shocked at my very quick burst of words, Simon pauses. Then, "Ivy, I pursued you because you were a challenge that intrigued me. You are beautiful, stubborn, smart, strong, and everything I could ever want in a partner. Physical attraction is only a very, very small part of it. I wanted you, in all regards, the moment we met. Like a magnet." He smiles, reaching for my hands, that have made a pretty complicated finger-knot. Untangling them, he continues, "I want nothing less than forever with you. In fact, I think I've fallen in love with you, baby."

I, having already had my walls broken down by the rugged man in front of me, start to feel tears well up in my eyes. Oh, god. The dam breaks, and they stream down my face.

"Ivy?" he asks, alarmed. "What did I say?"

"All of it," I blubber, trying to make sure I don't cry so hard that snot appears. "You're too good to me, you always were."

"No, I just had to work a little harder for something well worth the wait," he says, pressing the seat-belt button and reaching towards me.

Simon pulls me into his lap. "I love you, Ivy."

That only makes me cry harder, and I feel, through my closed eyes, Simon tug my hands away from wiping away my tears and replace them with his own. He presses his lips to my tears, kissing them away.

"You're so pretty," he whispers between kisses. "Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. Foreboding. Ethereal."

His compliments begin to grow comedically dramatic, and I start laughing. But he doesn't stop kissing my face, cinnamon-scented air surrounding us.

In that moment, I realize I feel the same way. In fact, keeping him out for so long has only strengthened my feelings for him now.

"I love you, too," I say, and he pulls back, serious.

"Ivy," he says, and I wipe the rest of my tears away.

"I love you," I say, and now it's my turn to kiss his face, over and over.

"Thank you for waiting," I say, taking a page out of his book to use the kisses as punctuation. "Trying. Listening."

His grip on my hips tighten, then, and I soon realize the intimacy of the moment.

When he opens his eyes to look at me, I know what's coming next.