I couldn’t not write about this, it’s- AUGHHD
Short story
Simon Riley x Reader
My mum would have loved you
After eight months of racking up annual leave, you finally had Simon home for more than two weeks, uninterrupted. The first few were spent with the 141 over, despite your nerves that they wouldn’t like you.
“You’re the only soldier I’ve ever dated, I’m not prepared.”
You were eating together, the morning still a pale blue outside. Two of the chairs at your table were eternally moved close together—your legs always ended up on Simon’s lap while he ran a thumb along your calf.
“That right? The only soldier?” Simon’s chuff tone seeped through, as much as he tried to play it cool.
“Look, the only thing you need to prepare for is a headache from Soap. They’re good men, I trust em’.” Simon followed your eyes when you looked away. “Hey. What’s not to like?”
That finally broke a smile on your features, making his eyes light up. He gently removed your legs from his lap to pull you in for a kiss, carding a hand through your hair while he pulled away.
“Johnny can’t be that annoying, you love him.” Your murmured.
“I love one person on this earth, and it ain’t that kid.”
You laughed airily, still too clouded with sleep to emote any further. Simon’s lips twitched for a moment before he granted himself a crooked smile. You couldn’t help but kiss him again.
He smiled again. “Love you most.”
And he was right—Price especially took a liking to your calm nature, something he figured had caught Simon’s eye from the beginning. When you were outspoken, you were respectful, but still made the room laugh in a way that had Simon’s eyes shining above his everyday black mask.
You had said your misty goodbyes, confiding in Simon how it was such a shame this would likely only happen again this time next year.
“You kidding? I wish I could have just a yearly dose of that lot.”
“You don’t mean that.” You threw back, lifting your heels to close the living room blinds.
“Keep it down, they could be listening.” He took you by your waist and swept you out of view from the window, making you laugh. He carried you down the hall to the bathroom, flicking off the house lights as he went.
“Will you permit me to brush my teeth, lieutenant?” You murmured into his shoulder, secretly quite comfortable. He sighed noisily, setting you down.
He removed his mask before the both of you prepared for bed, the domesticity of brushing teeth together and trimming off any facial hair while he watched you wash your face one of the view things that truly calmed him.
You beat him to bed, nestled in with a book before he joined you with his laptop.
“You should start reading, it’s a better thing to do before bed.” You spoke while your temple still rested at his shoulder. He hummed, but kept his computer open. You reached over, tilting it down slightly.
“Just tonight. See how you like it.”
He blinked for a moment before relaxing his shoulders in defeat, stowing his laptop away in the nightstand drawer.
“You could read this out loud, and then it’s like we’re reading it together.” You placed the book in his hands before he could argue, smiling.
“So I do all the work?” He teased, examining the book’s back cover. “Typical.”
“Oh my god..” You swatted his shoulder gently, a smile creeping up on his cheeks.
“Alright, alright…Jane Austen, is it?” He found the beginning of the last paragraph, clearing his throat ever so slightly.
You hummed. “Sense and Sensibility.”
“Maybe I should read this..okay..” Simon’s struggle to focus make you smile, watching him find his place again.
“Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. For many years of her life she had had two sons; but the crime and annihilation of Edward a few weeks ago, had robbed her of one; the similar annihilation of Robert had left her for a fortnight without any; and now, by the resurrection of Edward, she had one again.”
Simon paused, his brow furrowed at the page. “Her son died and came back? How does that work?”
“Maybe you should keep reading.” You chided.
“Just sayin’. Wish I could bring people back.”
The tail end of his sentence took you by surprise—he never talked about the people he’d lost during his service, though you knew there had been too many.
Simon didn’t continue reading, seemingly lost in thought. The nail of his finger traced the margins.
“Hey.” You took the book gently. “Do you want to talk about something?”
He averted his eyes, his jaw twitching in an embarrassed anger. “Just—been thinking.”
You tossed the book without breaking your gaze, reaching up to tentatively cradle the back of his head with a gentle hand.
And then right was wrong, up was down, red was green, because Simon Riley was taking your free hand in his and there were tears forming in his eyes. You could tell he wouldn’t be letting them spill over, but his blue iris’ began to shine like smooth glass, catching the light of the bedroom lamp.
“I was just thinking,” he repeated, drawing a deep, steady breath.
“My mum would have loved you.” His voice was nothing short of shattered, his grief seeping through the hold his hand had on yours, his quick breathing, and those sad eyes.
“Oh, Simon..” You breathed, pulling him into your arms. He took his position laid on his stomach, head nestled between your chin and neck, with strong arms reaching up to hold you. As if you were going too.
“I wish you could bring her back too..” you whispered into his hair. He said nothing, but you felt his warm tears on your night shirt and held him closer.
“She would be so proud of you. How kind you are.”
He released a shuddering breath, further relaxing into the bed. His black T shirt rose and fell with each wavering intake of air.
“I love you..” He murmured.
You smiled, though you were the one getting teary now.
