Mellow ~ A Simon Rix FanFiction

That Word

Delilah's POV

Enjoy! x

"Remind me why I agreed to this?" Simon mumbles, clambering off the bus like a hungover giraffe.

I pull on my bobble hat and fold my arms, "Because you were so excited by the prospect of spending the entire day with me." I laugh, gripping onto his hand as the bus doors slide shut.

It's school trip day, and we're at the Bosworth Battlefields with sixty odd year sevens.

"Really? Are you sure?" He teases.

I shoot him a glare and he chuckles and kisses my forehead fondly.

We only have fifteen pupils between us, and I can see that Si is a little anxious.

"What if we lose one?" He keeps asking, reminding me of my first school trip. We went to the Transport Museum in Coventry and I was seriously out of my depth, so much so that I took a register every half an hour and completely forgot that I had a set of twins in my group, and when I saw two identical children I thought I must've somehow accidentally duplicated a child. I know, impossible, but you think strange things when you're anxious.

We watch as the pupils start to reenact the Battle of Bosworth on the vast green field. We've been very lucky with the weather recently. Last year we had to postpone the trip due to intense hailstorms and flooding.

"We haven't lost one yet." I knock his shoulder as he passes me a full thermos full of tea.

"Yet? What do you mean 'yet'?"

I turn to face him and shrug, "Did I not tell you about my first school trip?"

Simon let's his jaw drop in horror.

"I'm only teasing." I giggle, drinking half the contents from the thermos and passing it back to Si who finishes it off.

We stand watching the kids for a few minutes, pointing and laughing when they tumble over on the soft grass and pick themselves up again with a smile.

None of the year sevens have been cheeky about me bringing my boyfriend to help chaperone, they're all too scared and sweet, unlike those year nines I teach on Mondays. Absolute savages.

"Do you want kids?" He drops the 'K' bomb, which totally throws me off.

The last time I discussed the prospect of having children with anyone was with Mark, and look how that ended.

Of course I want to have kids of my own, but sometimes saying that scares people off. "Maybe. If I'm with the right person." Well done Delilah, safe move. I breathe a sigh of relief and pull on my gloves.

He says nothing, and for a second I worry that I've upset him, but he only smiles and pulls me into his chest fondly.

"Talking about kids... Would you want to spend Christmas with the guys and I?" He queries, pulling away from me.

I grin immediately. "Definitely. No doubt about it."

I find it sweet how they do everything together, like brothers. Reminds me of Sian and I when we were little, inseparable. We came as a pair. The guys come as a five.

We continue to watch the children, smiling and kissing like we're sixteen years old again.

:-:-:-:

He's fallen asleep on my shoulder.

The bus is rocking frantically along the country lanes and the children are nattering away at the back. Not screaming and throwing paper like the year nines (thank goodness).

I pull out my note book and start to plan the acknowledgements page for my book. I sent the final version to the publishers last week and I won't know the result until around Christmas time.

I may be jumping the gun a little, but I'm feeling pretty confident.

Now, who do I want to thank?

Obviously Sian, considering the book is loosely based around her and her love life (I didn't factor in her breaking up with her fiancée though, that happened after I'd finished writing). And Martha, after all, she was the one who told me to stop procrastinating on the days I couldn't be bothered to write. I don't think I'll thank my parents. They were never very supportive of me going down the creative route, refused to let me do drama and art at school. They were even funny about me studying modern history, they would've rather I did a law degree like Sian.

And then there's Simon.

I peer over at him, fast asleep in the crook of my neck. I stroke his hair and continue with the writing.

He's made me so much happier, and we've hardly been going out a year. Sounds ridiculous. How can someone who's only just stepped into your life make such an impact on you? I don't have the answer, but what I do know is that right now is the happiest I have ever been. Everything has suddenly fallen into place and I know exactly where my life is going.

"What are you writing?" He yawns, eyes wide open now.

I chuckle and shove him off my shoulder. "Nosey much."

Simon grumbles as I slam the notebook shut. "I'm just interested." He moans.

I shrug, "Just the acknowledgments for the book."

"Can I see?" Simon sits up immediately with excitement.

I shake my head. I want it to be a surprise once- if it's published. "You'll have to wait and see." I grin cheekily earning a sharp glare from Simon, eyes puffy from his nap and cheeks red from where he's been leaning on me.

"There's a reason you're not showing me." He nuzzles his face into my neck and reaches up to kiss my cheek.

A few of the year sevens gush and point, but I don't care. They're only children. Harmless.

"Maybe." I shrug again. I want to keep him on his toes, which I know is cruel, but I'm seriously enjoying having the upper hand.

He pulls away and turns to face me in his seat, taking my small hands in his. "Delilah-" he begins but suddenly blushes and looks down at the floor.

"Yes?"

He meets my gaze again, eyes smiling. "Delilah, I think I might love you." He stumbles on his words, his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

I think I'm going to cry.

Simon sees my expression and grins, "No. Scrap that." He shakes his head, "I know that I love you."

He holds my hands tighter, waiting for my response, but I just don't have the words!

I rehearsed this moment. The moment he told me he loved me. I rehearsed my response. My actions. And now I can't even get the words out my mouth, stuck like cement.

I feel a smile creep onto my face. "I love you too. Maybe." I turn all coy last second and turn my focus to my feet on the floor anxiously.

Who would've thought such an intimate moment would occur on a stuffy school bus?

I know this was short but I had to get this chapter out before hiddlesbatchers skinned me.