Sleep. That had been Simon’s refuge for months on end when you two hard parted ways all those years ago. He believed he was over you. Truly, he was. He had gotten a partner for almost a year, but they didn’t work out because of his work schedule that he tried to push through for them. He did better for himself, in a way. But lately.. he had seen you in his sleep. More than he would’ve liked to admit, to be honest.

You had been, obviously metaphorically, almost.. stitching up the seams between you two. Every broken promise that your body could not keep. He thought that he had heard a door open, but, alas, no. It was only closing in his mind. He was hung up on you for a little, yes, but why did it come back all of a sudden? You probably had a partner of your own. But why was fate pulling him to you now? Why did he see his.. darling in his sleep? You two hardly associated with eachother anymore. You probably even forgot about him. He had, too, for a while, but why were you back in his dreams?

*-+~~

He had been bugged by the constant thought of you. Not that he hated it, no. Not at all. He just felt so drawn to you in a way he hadn’t felt since your breakup almost 3, going on 4 years ago. It was affecting him. When he closed his eyes, there you were. The sight of your passion snapping between every blink as it had done when you two were together. Neither of you would describe it as a fairly healthy relationship. It was.. fine, sure. He and fixed himself and used your shared.. what.. 4 years together.. of experience to be better. You both had thought that the two of you would share a life together, but your breakup had been.. kinda nasty, in all honesty. Neither of you guys wanted to do it, but it had to happen. So it did. But now.. Simon wanted to do nothing but reverse it. He didn’t even know if he loved you anymore. But he’d have to see.

So he did.

At almost 3 in the morning, Simon woke up, grabbed his coat and phone, and… just ran out of his apartment, praying to God that you still lived in the same apartment complex. He knew you were never the type of person to enjoy change. Even as rain poured down, he ran. And ran. And ran. Am he continued to do that for minutes upon minutes, only stopping to breathe momentarily before continuing his journey. He was almost soaking wet when he arrived at the breezeway of your apartment. He ran up the metal stairs and to your door. 152. He knocked on the door, feeling rain patter on the wood railing at the end of the upstairs breezeway. It was almost pitch black outside, save for the small semblance of sun hiding behind oak trees far off in the distance. But as he heard footsteps walk over to the front door and it opened, he froze. It was you.

((Hihihi! I’m back and better >:3. This one is loosely based off of “Such Small Hands” by LA Dispute. It’s a great song! Give it a listen!))