Roads That Cross...

... With Interruptions (Part 2)

They couldn't really leave the table immediately after they finished dinner because it would've been suspicious, so they stayed there making conversation with everyone. Luna and Nina excused themselves. Then Michel. When Matteo and Pedro rose, Ámbar and Simón did as well, with the excuse of leaving the grownups talking while the young ones went to sleep. Goodnights were exchanged and the guys climbed up the stairs.

Simón stopped right outside Ámbar's room and turned to her.

"I'll be right back, wait up."

She frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I gotta go find new pajamas. You know, since someone ruined mine this morning," he said with a teasing look.

Ámbar's expression changed from confused to mischievous.

"Mmm... Do you need ones though?"

A smirk grew on Simón's face. Their gazes danced, promising many very fun things.

"Okay, at least let me get clothes for tomorrow," he said. "And my toothbrush."

He turned around but she stopped him immediately, catching his arm.

"Bring a whole backpack," she told him with her flirty smile. "That way you don't have to make so many trips."

Simón smiled excitedly and gave her one short, hard kiss before hurrying to his room.

The guest room he had been given was on the complete opposite wing of the mansion, quite far from Ámbar's and Luna's rooms. Matteo, Pedro and Michel's rooms were right next to his. Simón guessed Miguel had chosen those rooms on purpose to keep the guys as separated from the girls as possible.

He snorted inside. If he knew.

Simón walked into his guest room and turned on the light. It was a simple room, medium size with neutral, light-cream colored walls. Entering, left to the door, there was a small wooden desk and chair. A single bed laid in the center of the room, with its backrest against the left wall and a nightstand on its right. On the back wall was a window and on the right one a wide dresser, close to the foot of the bed. His suitcase was next to it, empty because he'd already moved everything to the drawers.

The room still didn't feel his though, not even in a rented room way. He hadn't spent more than like three nights in it since he'd slept in the storage room many times, and especially since he'd started dating Ámbar he'd hardly ever walked in.

His backpack was on the back of the chair. He grabbed it and placed it on top of the bed before turning to the dresser.

Simón opened a drawer and stood looking at the t-shirts. How many clothes should he pack? Ámbar had said to bring a backpack but she didn't specify. What size did she imagine his backpack was? Big? Small?

He took off his beanie, leaving it on top of the dresser, and ran a hand through his hair. It was a very weird situation the one they were in. After all, they were living together but they weren't living together, if that made any sense. He had arrived at her house out of necessity; she hadn't asked him to move in with her, they weren't a couple who had decided and planned to spend all their waking time together. And honestly? It'd be insane if they had— They'd only been dating for a couple of days. Admittedly, it felt longer since the bond between had existed for about a year now, but they were so new as a couple. A part of him kept fearing that if he spent too much time with Ámbar she'd get sick of him. But she had told him that she liked spending the night with him, and she had been to one to suggest he brought clothes for a more permanent stay.

... He was horribly overthinking this, wasn't he?

Whatever— He'd just fill his backpack with as much he could and leave it at that. It's not like he could fit a lot in there anyway, and the only way he could look pretentious was if he appeared on her door with a suitcase, which he was not going to do, so it was fine.