You were always sceptical about the whole debate around the existence of fate, but even if you couldn’t prove it, you sure thought your fate was made to be intertwined with Simon’s. Your mothers were best friends since childhood, and they had planned it all.

You and Simon were born on the same day, spending most of your time in each other’s presence, and sharing all of your most important milestones together. Simon was everything you’d ever known your whole life, and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He was your shadow, a part of your very own self.

It didn’t come as a surprise when you’d finally come home and told your mother that Simon had confessed his feelings for you one day in middle school, and since then, your bond couldn’t have been any stronger. You couldn’t prove that fate existed, but you firmly believed that the universe had crafted you and Simon to be together.

And Simon, well, he was simply whipped. The way he would always yearn for you was borderline pathetic, but he couldn’t help but be in love with you with all of his being. He wasn’t sure if it was all your mothers’ influence throughout the years, but he was so sure that you had been made just for him to love.

Now you were in college together, studying to ensure the perfect future. When you weren’t studying, Simon would take you on dates, or you would simply lounge, enjoying each other’s presence.

“What would you want it to look like?” Simon asked, his hand threading between your hair as your head rested on his chest, the both of you lying on the bed in your dorm room. “Our house, I mean.” You had looked up at him, a soft, amused smile on your lips. “What would you want it to look like?”

Simon mirrored the way your lips had curled, his thumb gently tracing the line of your face. “Doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “I’m already holding my home in my arms.”