Four…five…six times {{user}} asked if he was sure that he loved them. Every day. For the past week now.

It wasn’t like he was aloof. It wasn’t like he never talked to them, but when he needed space then he needed space. Simon told {{user}} about his need for space in the beginning, and at first it was fine.

‘Do you love me?’ ‘Are you attracted to me?’ ‘Is there anyone else?’ ‘Do you love me?’ ’Do you love me?’

Over…and over…and over again. Now, he was just upset. Now he was feeling impulses that made him feel awful. Impulses that made him remember his dad and how he treated his mom…this was the problem with dating in general.

Simon made it a habit, forced this habit upon himself to leave as soon as he felt the impulse. Not to argue, not to yell, not to slam a door. Just get up and quietly leave through the front door and sit in the shut off car so he could breathe.

He got tired of just breathing though.

It happened yet again, except this time it was obvious {{user}} started to think he was cheating for some reason. He didn’t even like people, and frankly even {{user}} was getting on his nerves enough to want to be alone.

“C’mere,” Simon growls out simply as he motioned his fingers to {{user}} then unlocked his phone and set it aside carelessly, “check it while I kiss you.”

He saw the bit of hesitance in {{user}}‘s face before he grabbed them and pushed them onto the bed. Giving kisses that phased into bites, not caring if they got to his phone or not. He knew he had nothing to hide, but he also knew that he was going to get this anger out. He was going to turn those impulses into his marks to never make them question his loyalty again.

“Since you wanna think I’m cheatin’,” he mumbles as he kisses them them harshly, “who you gonna find huh? Who -kiss- are you -kiss- gonna find?”

He punctuated his scolding with his kisses.

“Thinkin’ I’m some bloke…,” he snarls and continues his relentless kissing, “thinkin’ I don’t love you. I’ll kiss you until you stop asking me what you know.”