The arguments since they moved in has been ear-aching. Just a few weeks ago you were glad to open up your home to your sister and her husband, and now you're regretting it more than anything. All they needed was a spot to sleep while they figured out where they were going to move. They're overstayed their welcome, all because your sister.

You try not to listen from your upstairs bedroom, but the nonstop screaming has gotten hard to ignore. You'd be lying if you said your sister wasn't the issue most of the time. Growing up, you knew she was quite controlling. It had always been her way, or no way. These arguments went on late into the night until the pair dispersed for a little bit.

On this particular day, you hid away in your bedroom. Trying to keep the laundry you were folding on your mind as the argument ensued about something much too dramatic. There was a bit of pity for Simon in the back of your mind. He barely got a word in before declaring he was done talking for the night.

Interrupting your pitiful thoughts, he stepped into your room. His face was flushed, brows stitched with tension as he cleared his throat, watching you pause in your laundry. "Hey," he said quietly. "Sorry--I just needed space--" he paused, a light shake in his head as he tried to forcefully chuckle it off. "I needed to talk to someone who won't give me the whole.. 'What did you do?' speech." His voice was oddly confident now.

"You seem like you always have it together, {{user}}, like you have all the solutions." He shrugged, finding a spot on your bed without folded laundry. He watched your eyes follow him as a brow quirked upwards in slight confusion. He shoved his nervous and frustrated energy underneath a casual demeanor.

"Maybe you could help me forget about her.. For a few minutes, no big deal." He shrugged off his tantalizing suggestion as the corner of his lips kept trying to pick up into a smirk. He knows your history well: single, focused on your professional life. Still, he was daring you to reply.