Security

Chapter 9

Never has Simon been on a train journey as fast yet as long as this one has been. A speedy two hours has somehow dragged - the feeling perhaps spurred on by Simon's remorse and self-reproach towards his misdeeds yesterday.

Several times throughout the trip, Simon impulsively makes the decision to text Harry, only to erase his heartfelt (but undeserving of forgiveness) message and power his phone off out of humiliation at his pathetic self. He eventually turns it back on in order to repeat the shameful act again. As he does so for probably the seventh time, stepping off the train and onto the platform all the while, he's glad he never actually got around to sending any form of sincere yet lacking text.

Unconsciously, a wide grin forms on Simon's face as he notices the person standing a little ways off from where his train has come to a stop. They haven't noticed him yet, and so Simon allows his eyes a moment to praise the sight of them, to drink in the picture of his not-boyfriend (friend!) waiting for him upon his return to the city. Since he has not even the slightest shred of control over himself or his emotions, he is unable to prevent such an action of open intemperance. He really can't help it, though. Just the mere sight of Harry standing there is enough to light a flame inside Simon's stomach, to unlock his heart from its self-inflicted prison and allow it to fly free inside his chest.

It's blatant, the moment Harry catches sight of him. The younger man switches, in an instant, from jittering in place anxiously to straightening up his posture, his hands on his hips. He frowns as he looks Simon over disapprovingly, taking in his sorry state.

His smile drops the second he notices Harry's unwelcoming demeanor, feeling ridiculed by the other's lack of usual gaiety.

With all the wisdom of a man who has done wrong, and recognises such, Simon approaches his 'friend' slowly; he purposely enforces all the restraint he can muster up, nervously dawdling his way over to the visibly vexed man. The emotional affliction is unfortunately written all over his beautiful face, the aggravation in his body language is practically screaming at Simon. It makes him fearful in his approach of the other. However, as much as being a coward is encoded in his genetic material, Simon knows he needs to confidently leap up to the noose rather than cower away from it. He has already dug his own grave - what difference does walking himself to his own execution make?

"Q-quit it with the se-self-pity, mate, mate," is the first thing Harry says to him as he nears. He doesn't look heartbroken, neither does he look gleeful at Simon's visible anguish. He simply appears crushed by life. By Simon and his selfish, unthinking series of events.

Now only a few feet away from the shorter man, Simon mutters an apology whilst the other turns away from him. (It goes unacknowledged. If Harry even hears it all.) He follows immediately after Harry orders him to follow, albeit the disorganised nature of the sputtered and extended command is far less intimidating than the self-assurance in his gait. (Even that is questionable. Simon knows him well enough to recognise it for the façade that it is.)

He follows behind Harry at an exaggerated, leisurely pace. He observes the way the younger steps ahead of him, the way he fights between directing his gaze to the floor and raising his head with confidence. He - with model resilience, as can be expected from Harry Lewis - manages the perfect combination of the two, letting Simon know that he's as much angry as he is destroyed by an arguably emotional betrayal.

Ten in the morning on a weekday makes for a fairly quiet train station environment, not completely bustling but filled with plenty of people preparing to commute elsewhere. They are in London, after all.

As they pass by, a few station staff members meet eyes with Simon, a couple he recognises from the day before. In front of him, Harry is too steadfast to realise the attention, likely too lost in his own diffidence and concerns. Simon takes one for the team, smiling and nodding to commuters and staff alike who recognise them as members of the Sidemen.

It is not until they're outside in the fresh air, their surroundings much calmer and less tense without people rushing to make it on time, that Harry finally speaks again. He turns and tosses something at Simon as he speaks. He seems to actively avoid making eye contact. It's what he says that causes Simon to notice they're walking towards a car. His car!

"I dr-drove the, well you can, I bro-brought the wretched th-thing here, of course, so you can drive us b-back."

After that, Harry heads around to the passenger side of the sleek, dark car. As he climbs into the driver's side after putting his bag in the back, Simon muses that Harry must have first unlocked the vehicle before chucking the keys to Simon. The older man must have just been too distracted to clock the little beeping sound that indicates the car is now open.

Silently, Simon gets the engine running, the whirring growl the only noise spared bar Harry's laboured breathing. (He's probably worked himself into a right state inside his overactive mind.) Feeling so much at once that it results in him having no idea what to feel in that moment, Simon presses down on the clutch with his left foot. Right, driver mode! Don't think about anything but the car, the road, and what's on the road, he tells himself. He can't simply drive off straight away, having to manoeuvre the vehicle out of where Harry seemingly left it parked while he went into the station to wait for and fetch Simon.

"How did you know what time I was due back?" Simon eventually asks, his tone pleasant but awkward. Understandably so. It's barely been five minutes since he started driving.

"To-tobi told me."

Right. Tobi had originally intended to get the same train home to London but had for some reason decided to head back tomorrow instead of today. He really likes the hotel he booked to stay at, apparently.

"Right. Of course he did." Simon shakes his head as he speaks, his eyes trained on the road intensely in an attempt to not so much as glance at Harry. One look and he knows he will be gone. "Are we going to mine?"

"Unfortunately."

As he continues driving, only now changing direction to set course for his own residence, Simon sighs. He is beyond confused at why exactly Harry came to meet him at the train station, as well as guilty and hurt at the fact that he knows he hurt Harry in his act of insecure insensitivity. He's finding it really hard to focus on the moment, on the awkward rigidity and looming negativity. Instead he retreats to a corner of his mind that locks that comprehension away, allowing him nothing but the details of the visions in front of him. He's gotta focus on the road or else someone could get hurt. Simon never wants to hurt anyone. Least of all Harry!

He, not for the first time in his life, wishes he could have a greater capacity for positive emotions when it comes to himself and his relationship experiences. In recent times, he always ends up ruining things when it comes to romantic love and all things relating to the all-consuming power.

He really hopes Harry is here to give him a chance to fix his mistake.