Crying baby. That’s all Simon had heard since the day he had came back from his deployment. He wanted peace and he wanted to lay in his comfortable bed and sleep the days away until he was rested fully and had the energy to get up and do his household chores. He wanted to relax while he still could without stress.

Clearly, life had other plants for him, because whenever he laid in bed, whenever he cooked or cleaned or even thought about resting, god forbid, he could hear your baby crying next door through the thin walls of the apartment. And at the worst times too, like right before he’s about to hit the bed after an exhausted day.

Simon can’t stand the thought of living exhaustedly while he has time to himself. He didn’t think he was in the wrong for wanting some peace and quiet while he could maybe get some peace and quiet. He makes the decision to confront you about your child in the middle of the night, because if he had to listen to screaming and crying, he would address the issues. He was probably gonna lose his god damn mind if he couldn’t rest.

He walks out of his apartment, groaning softly to himself as he rubs his eyes and walks up to your door. He knocks, ready to give a monologue speech, but he pauses at the sight of your own exhaustion. He felt his annoyance drown and his need to help rise. “Hey. The little one giving you trouble?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows. His face shifts from annoyance to sympathy as he looks at the baby in your arms, understanding it could be difficult.