The Melon-Head Boy -a Simdil fanfiction-

Chapter twentyeight:

(hi) ... (Sarcastic Martin ay)

-Martin-

"Martain~ open up~" His voice is unsteady. God, why is he here? "Martin... C'mon I just- I just want to talk to you~"
I carefully walk down the stairs, regretting every step I take. "Martin! Yay!" he exclaims as I open the door. The smell of alcohol hits me, making me step back a little. He takes that as an invitation. He steps inside, leaning uncomfortably close and he pokes the door shut. "I've missed you~" he whispers, his lips against my ear. It probably would've been arousing if he wasn't reeking.

"Simon, did you walk all the way to me? I live across town" My statement only got him to giggle, not giving me an answer. His damp hoodie touches my skin and I have to take another step back. "Take your hoodie off. You're gonna catch a cold" He throws it off and it lands across the room. Geez. No t-shirt underneath... Okay.
Without warning, he grabs me and smashes our lips together. For a second, it feels like before, when everything was alright. I place my hand on his chest and push him. It wasn't forceful, but his face expression makes it seem like it. "Come with me" I try to grab his upper arm, but he quickly catches my hand, sending sparks up my body. Fine. There's only a couple of meters (feet, u darn americans) to the couch. He sloppily sits. "Wait here".

When I get down with a cover and pillow, he's actually still sitting there. Wow. "Here" I say as he lays down. He snuggles into the cover. I stand up when I think he's asleep, but as I walk out of the room, I hear his voice again.

"Martin... Why don't you love me?" I don't know what to answer. I do.

"We can talk about that later" I sigh.

"I love you, Martin" he says in a tiny voice.

"You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying" I answer and walk up the stairs to my room. Soon enough, faint snores are heard.

---

I pull the person next to me closer.  Wait... Ugh, Simon.
I let him go, checking the time. Eh... 8 am, I can get up. Simon'll probably need breakfast anyway. I lay a shirt on my chair for him when he wakes up.

Footsteps are heard as I finish the last pancakes. Perfect hangover-cure. I welcome him with a "Good morning" and after his mutual response, a long silence is brought over us while we eat the breakfast I've made.

The dark blue shirt he's wearing isn't really a fit for him and is hanging loosely at his shoulders. He looks incredibly tiny in it.

Let's just say that the silence around us isn't what you'd call comfortable. Simon's behaviour is a mix between "don't look at me" and "notice me". I don't  even know hos I'm acting. Oh geez, did I stare at him and the shirt? Shit.
The silence is eventually broken by Simon. "When did I get here?" his voice is so weak that it just seems like he's not actually asking.

"Around ten or eleven pm. You were drunk" oh god, is that my morning voice? I can't determine if it sounds like a teen going through puperty or like, in a sexy way. Shit.

"Yeah.. I only remember small bits. It was freezing as hell outside." he tries to laugh a little but it comes out as a cough and a smile.

"Right. I have your hoodie. It was soaked yesterday so I hung it up" I got up and took it, hanging by the door. "Why don't you have a shirt underneath you hoodie like everyone else?" I continue, actually laughing a bit.

"So you won't have to dry two things" he smartly says back.

"Good one" and silence falls over us again. We are already finished with our plates. Simon eventually stand up.

"I should go. Thank you, for helping me, I guess" His tone has nothing to say. I follow him to the door and catiously looks outside. It's raining heavily.

"Let me drive you. I didn't dry your hoodie for nothin'"

---

There was no topic in the car. I focused on the road and Simon quietly looked down at his hands. When we're at his street, he speaks up. "What happened yesterday?"

"You were drunk" I answer, pulling over to the sidewalk my his house "nothing special happened... I didn't let you make anything happen" He doesn't respond to my answer, but simply nods after a few seconds and gets out of the car. I watch him walk towards his house for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath and starting my car again.

Knock, knock. I open the passengers' door. Simon stand there, a kid of agony in his eyes. "If I wouldn't have been drunk... or make something happen right now... Would you let it happen? Would things act differently?"

I look at him. Can I actually do this again, can I make him able to hurt me again? What if he cheats on me again, gets tired of me... of us? Can I sacrifice myself do that again?

"... Yes."

(AN: I WAS GOING TO JUST LET SIMON LEAVE LMAOOOO

IDK WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT OOPS

;)

//Elo c:)