REVOLUTION: young royals

i know a lot of things (but i don't know you)

hi!! it's been a while. so. season 3, amiright
posting this an hour before going into wisdom tooth surgery. wish me luck.
(title is from I Don't Know You by Mannequin Pussy. please listen to them they're so good)

—

"Love shouldn't be this hard."

Simon picks at his hands as Wille turns over, his eyes puffy and cheeks stained red. He looks terrified. Simon can't watch.

"What do you mean?" Wille breathes out.

Simon takes a shaky breath and suddenly realizes that he's never actually cried in front of Wille before. He hates crying, but it's been happening more often than usual now, and the tears are already burning as he blinks them back. It won't take long before he breaks. "Maybe this won't work."

Wille searches his face, and Simon has to grip his own hands to stop them from wiping at Wille's still-wet cheeks. "I can't do this anymore," he finally admits.

And Simon...Simon feels guilty. He feels like his soul is crushing from the inside out. It's Wille's birthday, for God's sake, and he just stood up to his parents, and Simon loves him a horrible amount, but—

He just. He can't. He can't do it. It hurts too much, and this is all so much bigger than just them. It's his Mama, and Sara, and his friends, and his home. His entire life.

He's constantly on the verge of his breaking point. He's deteriorating, melting, and malleable under the Kungahuset's touch. Months ago, before Wille, before this all-consuming love, Simon told himself he wouldn't become like this.

"Simon," Wille whispers, broken and choked.

Simon shakes his head, hands trembling and heart pounding. This is a prince, an heir apparent, in a king-sized bed, in an oversized room and an even bigger palace, and he's shattering under Simon's gaze. And Simon knows, of course he knows, that as much as this situation hurts himself, it's hurting this boy too.

"I'm sorry, Simon."

This boy. Only seventeen. Simon can only hope that the Queen does not yet fall.

And that's all that it comes down to, isn't it? The Queen and the Duke. The Royal Family. The Court. The Kungahuset. This system. What happened to the boy who watched Simon with yearning eyes in government class as he spoke up against his classmates? What happened to the Wille that threatened abdication to be free from all the stressors and to finally feel loved and protected for once in his life?

He was a revolution. But then he, too, was broken by the very same system he became the face of.

"Wille," he sniffs. "Wille, I—"

"Förlåt. Förlåt," Wille's eyes well up even more. His lips are red, swollen, and wobbling, and Simon wants to kiss them.

He doesn't. "Wille, I need to go."

"Simon. Please."

He doesn't realize the way he's learning further into Wille's space until it's too late, and Wille is clutching onto his shirt like a lifeline, and Simon can't let him go.

"Simon, snälla, please—"

Simon swallows the lump in his throat as he brings his hand up, brushing against the back of Wille's head. Wille cries and cries into Simon's brand new shirt, and, fuck. He caused that, didn't he?

"Snälla," Wille hiccups, shaky and terrible. "I'm so sorry."

Simon, against his better judgment, holds Wille there, the warm, comforting weight grounding him. And that, of course, is when the tears finally fall, big and stifling and so damn horrible.

He waits a moment, begging for the tears to slow down. He's always tried to stay strong in front of Wille, even when he was angry at everything in the world. Even when he held Wille during Erik, during Lucia, during the video. Even two months ago, when his sister's betrayal was so painfully fresh that he could barely look at her. He'd always make sure the tears only fell when Wille was looking away.

The tears don't stop. They only worsen as Wille sobs into his chest.

His fingers curl around the back of Wille's neck, soothing the stray strands of hair that were mussed by the bed. "I need to go," Simon whispers.

Wille whimpers, nods, but doesn't let go. "Förlåt."

Simon bends down, resting his cheek on Wille's head. "Please."

And, of course, it isn't a dysfunctional Wille-and-Simon moment without a poorly placed: "Jag älskar dig."

Simon shudders and presses his lips together so he doesn't say it back.

"I love you," Wille stupidly repeats.

Simon swallows back another sob, already feeling like he can't breathe. He presses his lips against the crown of Wille's head and feels as Wille shakes underneath him. "Wille. It's for the best. Please."

—

When he comes home, his mom is waiting for him on the couch. He immediately collapses in her outstretched arms.

"Oh, mi amor," she coos, petting his back. "I take it it didn't go well?"

Simon sobs painfully and shakes his head, "No. No, it didn't."

"And what did you tell him?" She adjusts in her spot, allowing him to fit under her arm.

"I can't do it," his voice breaks. "I- I can't." He thinks of the window in the other room, shattered and waiting for a repairman to fix it. All the other windows in the house, blocked off until further notice, until they can be replaced with stronger glass, or, even worse, until the Erikssons find a new home.

If he can't even feel safe here, then where can he go?

She brushes his hair back and kisses his sweaty forehead, "Mi corazón. I'm proud of you."

Simon hiccups and shakes his head again, "But I love him."

"I know you do."

"It hurts."

"I know it does."

"Everything fucking hurts. No matter what I do," he wipes his face. "It hurt being with him, but now it hurts even more. And- and I can't do anything to help anyone. Because every time I try, it just- it hurts, Mama."

Linda holds him, brushes her fingers through his curls, down his shoulders, traces shapes on his back. She removes his blazer and replaces it with a knit blanket. She lays him down on the couch, filling him with juice and leftovers. It's such a stark contrast after being in a palace all day.

Finally, he dozes off with his mother's soft voice in his ear: "Te amo, Simon."

—

i RAN to finish this because as i said before, i am getting my wisdom teeth removed and i knew i wouldn't be able to finish this in time for the finale if i waited any longer

* 1022 words (March 14, 2024)