The lights were dim, the soft flicker of the TV illuminating the living room in warm tones. You were curled up on the couch beside Simon, your legs tucked under a blanket, your head lightly resting against his shoulder. The movie playing was some cheesy action-comedy you'd picked-well, suggested, though you'd offered at least three times to change it if he didn't like it.

Simon didn't say much, as usual. But he hadn't moved. That meant he was fine with it

And that meant alot.

You laughed quietly at a scene, then looked up at him. He was watching the screen, lips faintly curled in amusement. A soft warmth bloomed in your chest, and the words slipped out before you could stop them.

"You know, i used to watch movies like this with my mom. We'd always make popcorn but burn it every ti-" You paused. The smile on your face faltered. "I'm sorry. That was dumb. Sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up."

Simon didn't respond right away.

You felt your face heat up and shifted slightly, putting a little more distance between your bodies. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable. You didn't want to be to much. You didn't want to be a burden.

"I'm sorr-"

"Stop," he said quietly. Your heart skipped a beat. You blinked up at him. "What?"

"Stop saying sorry," Simon said, voice low but steady. His eyes weren't on the movie anymore- they were on you. "You've apologized five times in the last ten minutes. For talking. For smiling. For remembering something."

Your mouth opened, then closed. Guilt settled in your stomach like a stone. "I just..." You whispered. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood. I talk too much sometimes, and i know I annoy people when i get too excited, and I just-"

"You don't annoy me."

You blinked, and your throat tightened.

"You've never ruined the mood. You are the mood," he said, his voice almost gentle, like he was carefully choosing every word so they'd land where they needed to. "And I like hearing you talk. I like seeing you smile."