the not so romantic / simon minter

24

A/N: its up here today b/c gotta warn you of some smut... 🙈 also thank u for 40k 💖 pls let me know what you think!

Groggily and reluctantly, Maggie shifts from under the sheets. Simon's curtains to his bedroom window were a forgotten necessity last night; and now the sun was shining bright, glaring into her unopened eyes. Turning away from the window, she's welcomed into warm arms and a bare chest.

Her eyes shot open in horror. Without realizing, she's fallen off the side of the bed with a loud thump. Simon stirs, rubbing his palms against his tired eyes and slides his way across the bed to look at Maggie's shocked face.

Letting out a big yawn, he lays his head back down on the pillow, still watching her carefully.

"What are you doing down there?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep and playfulness.

Maggie gulps harshly, looking down in her lap--she was wearing a red baggy shirt, and a pair of his boxers. "We didn't..., do anything last night, did we?"

Simon looks at her quizzically, tilting his head to the side in absolute confusion. Like he knows something she doesn't.  When he realizes that she's serious, and the terrified look on her face won't go away, he finally breaks down in a fit of laughter.

"You can't be serious now, right?" He asks, choking back his laughter, his hands resting on his bare stomach. "What do you remember from last night?"

The kiss.

"To be honest...., not much, really." She lies, continuing on. "I remember getting on the counter and that's it."

His smile falls.

His eyelids droop.

He opens his mouth to say something. But instead he shuts it.  Opening it again, his voice cracks--from sleepiness, from her avoiding The Kiss talk, it could be from the lack of water. "That's all you can remember?"

Her heart flutters, and a knot tightens in her stomach. Had she hurt him?

"Should I remember more?" Maggie asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Simon shakes his head, moving all the way to the other side of the bed before getting out and putting on a pair of socks. When he stands up, Maggie lets out a breath, she hadn't known she'd been holding.

He was wearing track bottoms.

She had jumped to conclusions.

"Not really." He tells her after it's been silent for awhile. "The rest of the night wasn't important, at least for me, uneventful."

Her breath catches in her throat. Sucking in a harsh breath of air, she sits up on her knees with her elbows resting against the bed. If he walked out that door, what would happen? If he didn't walk out the door, what would happened?

Maybe the WHAT WOULD HAPPEN's outweighed the WHAT IF's. What if she hadn't met Dominic? She wouldn't have met Simon. What if she didn't go with him that night--after Dominic thrashed the place and yelled at her? What if she let Simon walk out right now?

Maggie's shoulders move up and down whilst hollowed breathes escape past her lips. She blinks furiously, her eyes threatening to let unshed tears go. She watches him carefully--he throws on a sweatshirt, grabs his phone that had been carelessly thrown to the ground back on the charger, and starts walking to his door. She climbs across his bed, running to him before he can open the door even more.

Her body smacks into his back, whilst her arms wrap around his waist. Heavy breathing escapes her lips, but she can't help nuzzle her face into him.