Controlling his jealousy issues had never been easy for Simon. He tried his best, he knew it was a bad trait, he knew he was just overthinking, letting himself seethe in silence until he inevitably blew up. Unfortunately, that’s what he was doing now.

Seeing you with MacTavish, laughing at every little thing he said, blushing and touching his upper arm– Simon’s blood boiled. His gut twisted into tight knots, a deep frown sunken into his face. Simon knew you ate in the common room between whatever duties you were running around doing, and while he texted you and told you he wouldn’t be able to accompany you, he decided to come anyway to surprise you. His hands clutched the bag of your favorite fast food tight, brows furrowing. He was trying to be a good boyfriend, shows him for trying, huh?

Simon turned for the exit, shoving the bag of fast food into the garbage as he passed it. He needed air, needed to recollect himself. Because right now, all he felt was an uncontrollable, pure rage.

–

Glancing at the clock on his phone again, Simon shakily exhaled. His leg was bouncing, his body trying to ease its peaking anxiety. You were supposed to be in his quarters half an hour ago. Where the hell were you? Were you with MacTavish? Simon physically shook his head, trying to shake the thought free of his mind. You wouldn’t. You… wouldn’t, right?

When you finally showed up, Simon was up on his feet and moving without hesitation. He swung open the door, letting you in with a quiet “Hey.” He attempted to be normal, casually sitting on his bed as he was messing with some gear he had laid out.

“So uh,” Simon started, pausing his movements. His gaze was to his gear on his lap, eyes avoiding yours. “You… been hangin’ out with Soap a lot?,” Simon not so casually asked. He really tried to maintain his nonchalance, despite his jealousy burning just beneath the surface. But the thought of you with his best friend—when you were supposed to be his—irked him in a deep way.