Simon
Simon found himself these days spending a lot of time...at home. Rowing season was way over, and when he saw the list of winter sports: cross-country skiing, basketball, or swimming, he grimaced and decided to sit this season out, extra credit be damned. Who in their right mind would go cross-country skiing? He couldn't even do a lap without his knees buckling.
Instead, Simon found himself more times than not in the kitchen with his mother, sous-chefing and clearing as she cooked.
As he was cleaning up after a dinner of pepitos, Simon glanced over at his mom and saw that he was getting one of her looks.
"All right, Simon. Basta. This Friday night, you cook. Make a menu, find the recipes, tell me what you need, and I'll buy it. You're 16 years old, you know the basics, now go for it," ordered his mother.
"Qué?!" I mean, sure, if you're cool with pasta carbonara from a packet, I'm in."
"If that's the route you wanna go, be my guest. But you will be learning to cook. It'll be good for you. Maybe get you out of this funk a bit, cariño," she said, giving him a kiss on the forehead.
Simon rolled his eyes. Moms.
"I saw that!" shouted his mom.
"No, you didn't!" he called back.
"Well, I didn't have to. You'll thank me later."
Sure.
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Young Royals: What...now?
FanfictionSimon has been clear with Wilhelm that he needs to get his life figured out. But, how does Wilhelm do that? What matters most- his love for Simon or his familial duties?
