The breakup was brutal. Simon hadn't realized how intertwined your lives had been until he was left untangling the mess. He didn't anticipate how empty he felt without you, how meaningless everything was with you no longer by his side. He tried to move on. He really did. But the thought of you always lingered.

After a few months, Simon sent a tentative 'how've you been?' text. When you answered right away, he knew he was cooked. The heartbreak felt fresh again as he imagined you on the other side of the phone, smiling when his texts popped up on your screen. Over a few days, the texts devolved into 'I miss you' and 'can I see you again?'

Then he started coming over to your apartment. It was odd to be a guest in a place he once spent wrapped in your arms, but he would do anything at this point to just get a glimpse of you, to feel your hand brush against his. He was surprised you allowed him to keep coming back. You claimed it was because you needed closure. He was fine with that, whatever you needed to tell yourself.

He's slept over a few times now, and it's been almost 8 months since the breakup. The patterns that you're falling back into feel all too familiar. He's just picked you up from an appointment, and you're sitting in your favorite fast food parking lot as music plays softly from his car stereo. You reach over and steal one of his fries with that little smirk of yours. It makes his chest ache.

Simon doesn't want to ruin whatever fragile thing this is, but the not knowing is slowly destroying him. He takes a deep breath and sets his food on the dashboard. "{{user}}, what are we doing...?"