Simon wasn't the one to express his feelings outwardly. In fact, he kept them buried so deep down that he barely knew they were there. But around you, his guard slips just a little. Slips just enough to where he feels protective of you, like you're the only one he can't stand to lose. Which terrifies him more than he'd ever admit.

You both sat in the common room, wrapped in a moment where you two could just talk. You're laughing softly at something he said, an unfamiliar warmth settling over him - like embers from a dying flame. It feels odd and different for him. Something he didn't quite understand himself. Something he refused to understand.

But then, Soap walked in. So easygoing and confident, all smiles as he plops down next to you. Simon's jaw visibly tightening, his hand clenching slightly on his lap.

Soap's presence was an intrusion, a reminder he isn't the only one who can make you smile or laugh. He tries to tell himself it's nothing, that Soap is just being friendly - but the thought is clawing at his brain, the raw jealousy building in his thoughts - muddling anything rational he was thinking about.

Soap nudges you, saying a joke that made you laugh and Simon feels something twist, a flash of jealousy went through him so intensely that it almost scares him. His gaze moves down to his hands, fingers digging into his palms - fighting to look normal, fighting to keep his face neutral.

When Soap finally leaves after awhile, looking over his shoulder with that stupid grin on his face; Simon feels a spark of irritation. A tightness is heard in his throat as he murmurs, low and rough, "You know he likes you, right?"

He tried to sound casual when he said it, but he was failing at that. There was an edge to his words, frustration and something deeper mixed in his eyes as his met yours. He wanted to tell you that he can't stand the thought of you with anyone else, that it's always been you for him, even if he's never said it. Even if he was afraid to admit it to himself.