By the time she's on the road — anything and everything is making it harder for her to concentrate. City lights shine too bright. Cars zoom too fast. People in crosswalks are careless when crossing. But her eyes blur, and her chest hurts.
It's too much.
Beat.
Trees whizz past, a collection of green floating across her vision, and a city road that no longer paved turn to gravel. She had gone too far, and she didn't want to stop. Never wanted to stop. Things felt like they were getting hard. Or at least, she felt an unbearable pain dear through her chest. Like a hot cast-iron poking her chest.
Life was getting too much, too soon, too quick.
She needed to breathe. Wiping her face from wet tears, she jumps when her phone vibrates loudly across the dash.
Simon Minter
hi, maggie mayhem. just checking on when you'll be back
cuz u know
it's been a while
Maggie Sommers
(...)
(...)
(...)
read at 19:30
Simon Minter
ive been giddy to see u
how LAME AM I
(...)
Maggie Sommers
(...)
i went to go see dom
and i needed to pull over
because i think i'm having
a panic attack???
Simon Minter
(...)
what happened?
are you ok?
answer my call
INCOMING CALL: SIMON MINTER
"Please don't be mad at me..." Maggie breathes out quietly on the phone. Her heart pounding feverishly against her chest. She has to wipe her eyes again, and she can't help it when a sob erupts from her lips.
"Why on Earth would I be mad at you?" Simon begins, his voice calm and steady. "I will be mad if he's the one that upset you."
"Please don't be upset with him." She defends, and it feels sickening that that's second nature. Anger wells up, and it aches her chest.
"Maggie..., where are you? I'm getting my keys, and I'll be there when I can. Just stay on the phone with me."
She stays quiet on the other line. He listens to him shout to Vik that he was going out, and hears doors shut and engines start and the sound of wheels on pavement. When he puts his phone on speaker, she tells him where she's parked.
"What did he do?" He asks after a few minutes of silence. He has the radio low, so low, but she can hear the muffled sounds of a radio host. There is an intensity in the air, a sizeable current of chagrin rushing through his end of the line to hers.
Beat.
Hanging up, dead tone fills the small space of her car. This had been unlike her—never felt the intensity of the situation until panic had settled into the deepest parts of her. What happened if she stayed in that hotel room any longer? What happened if she just stayed silent? What if she just..., let it happen?
The adrenaline that had been coursing through her body had left long ago. Now she felt tired, and relieved, and albeit still anxious; she felt a little safer that Simon was on his way.
Had she chosen Simon? Was Simon hers to choose? No. It was circumstance, and heightened emotions—and she was thinking too much about this situation. If she had chosen him; had he chosen her as well?
A quiet tap on her window wakes her from thought. Blue eyes and wet hair fill her vision, and she opens the door and crawls into the passenger side seat. He sits at the wheel, a worried expression crosses his features.
"You've been crying." He mumbles, a cold thumb caressing her cheekbone, wiping a tear away. "Maggie, I swear if he hurt you. If he hurt you...," his voice cracks. "Please don't tell me he hurt you."
"I hurt him." She tells him after another moment of silence, and her eyes prick and she lets out a horrible sigh of anguish. "I hurt him before he could hurt me."
Simon pulls her in a tight embrace. His arms around her shoulders, his warm breath against the nape of her neck, the feeling of his lips pressing against her shoulder blade. He was trying to fix her—he was trying to comfort her.
"The worst part is—I still feel the need to defend him. As if he was some perfect human that people judged wrong. But.. he's not and I'm tired, and there will always be a part of him that's attached to me. Like there will always be a part of me, attached to him."
His massive hands grab her small ones. He cups them firmly and runs his thumbs against the inside of her wrists. Simon let's out a sigh and presses his forehead against hers. Places her hands, palms pressing against his chest, and she lets out a soft gasp when she feels how hard and fast his heart is beating.
"Do you feel this?" Simon asks her, his breath fanning against her face. He smells of sweet peppermint and eucalyptus.
"You're warm." She tells him, seeing a small simple grace his worries features. "And your heart..., it's beating so fast. Like it'll fall from your chest."
"I'm here, and I'm not promising you that I'm perfect. But I am here. I am warm and you make my heart beat so fast that I think my murmurs come back full swing. But you make me feel different."
Was this Simon's way of choosing her? Did she want him to choose her?
Maggie lets out a soft laugh, her eyes crinkling and brimming of unshed tears. "Different good or different bad?"
A grin spreads across his face as he scrunches his eyebrows in feign-seriousness, "Different bad, you're God awful."
"Hey!" Maggie lightly hits his chest, but she can't help but laugh at the doofus.
"In the best ways humanly possible, Maggie Mayhem." He tells her, leaning back against the seat. "Except now, I feel selfish because if you make me see the best version of myself; I want to help make you see the best version of yourself. Do you trust me?"
"You know I do."
Pulling her to his side, he presses his lips against her temple and grins so big that it'd make the sun jealous.
"Come home with me, then."
YOU ARE READING
the not so romantic / simon minter
Fanfiction[SLOW UPDATES: ONGOING UNTIL COMPLETED] "if you're googling: what is an emotionally abusive relationship, whilst sleeping stark naked next to the so-called love of your life; chances are you're in one, babe."
