Always You || Simon Minter (miniminter)

Chapter 17

We arrive back at the house, and I barely have the energy to walk to the door. Simon pays the taxi and follows me up the path. I mumble a quiet, "Good night," almost hoping he'll just leave me alone to collapse upstairs.

But he doesn't.

"Wait, Millie," he says, grabbing my hand and spinning me to face him. His expression is serious, full of worry. I try to focus on anything else, the floor, the sky, but it's impossible to ignore him.

We stand there in silence for a moment. My legs feel shaky, not just from the alcohol, but from the chaos of the night—the dancing, the drinking, the closeness, the stolen moments on the balcony.

"I don't want to talk to you," I say quietly, avoiding his gaze. I pull my hand free and start up the stairs, feeling him shadowing me.

"Millie, come on," he says again, his voice low, almost pleading. At the top of the stairs, he steps in front of me, stopping me. Panic rises. I feel the alcohol making my head spin, my chest tightening.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, reaching for my hand. I pull it away instinctively. My face burns, my stomach twists.

"You can't just kiss me, tell me you like me, and then act like nothing happened. You said Jide would be fine, but you lied. What am I supposed to think, Simon?" My bottom lip trembles, and I can feel tears threatening.

Simon's face hardens, the blue of his eyes turning stormy grey. "Forget tonight, okay?" he whispers, sounding defeated.

I lean my forehead against his chest, breathing shallow, unsure if I want to collapse into him or push him away. He slides a hand over my back, slow and steady, trying to ground me. "I didn't lie about the balcony, Millie. Please believe me," he says. "Give me a chance."

I don't answer. Part of me wants to kiss him, to feel the warmth of his body against mine, but another part wants to retreat.

"I don't want everyone knowing yet," he adds softly. "I want this to be between us, just us."

I nod, squeezing his hand. "We can't hide forever. If there's going to be an us, people will have to know eventually," I whisper.

He smiles, and the tension in his shoulders eases. He pulls me into a hug, and I rest my head against his chest. For a while, we just hold each other.

"Sleep in my room tonight?" he asks, and I can hear the playful, almost childish note in his voice. I laugh softly, letting myself feel a little safe. "Sure."

⸻

Later, I've removed my makeup, and Simon has watched quietly, fascinated. I'm sitting on his bed in an oversized t-shirt and panties, the alcohol still lingering in my veins.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice gentle. I look up to see him shirtless, wearing only shorts, sitting beside me. The bed dips slightly as he moves closer.

"Tired," I reply. I know he is too. Tonight has been overwhelming, exhausting, but also... full in a way I haven't felt in a long time.

I close my eyes, leaning back, and when I open them again, he's grinning at me.

"Hello," I giggle, and he leans forward, our lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss. It deepens almost imperceptibly, the kind of kiss that makes your stomach flutter and your chest ache at the same time. His hand moves under my waist, pulling me closer, and I melt into him.

We break apart, gasping for air. "Come here," he whispers, curling me against him. I bury my face in his shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"I'm sorry for tonight," he murmurs into my hair. I smile faintly. "It's okay. I understand now. Jide... is a little scary," I laugh softly.

"He can be," Simon chuckles, his chest vibrating against my head.

We lie like that for a while, the room quiet except for our breathing. His hand slides from my arm to my cheek, thumb brushing over my lips. I close my eyes, leaning into the touch, feeling the electric tension between us.

"Millie," he whispers, voice low, lips brushing against my temple. I tilt my head to look at him, heart racing. He's watching me, every expression of mine magnified in his gaze.

I press my lips to his shoulder, just a soft, lingering contact, and he chuckles, pulling me even closer. He presses small kisses to my temple and forehead, and the warmth of him, the soft hum of his chest, the lingering buzz from the wine—everything makes my head spin.

"I've wanted this... wanted you," he whispers again, voice low. My stomach flutters uncontrollably.

We stay like that, inches apart, suspended in something fragile and dangerous and wonderful. I know the moment can't last forever, but I don't want it to end.

"I'll need to go home soon," I murmur, reality pressing back in.

"Not tonight," he says softly. "We can figure everything out tomorrow."

I sigh, curling into him. "Goodnight, Simon," I whisper.

"Goodnight, Millie," he replies, holding me a little longer. And for the first time in months, I feel safe. Content. Happy. Wrapped in his arms, letting the world wait until tomorrow.

Comment for more!
Vote for more!
Thank you so much to the people reading this, I'm really enjoying writing it and I can't wait to release more❤️