There were two things Simon never did. Go on leave, and get sick.

Currently, he was doing both of those things. Price forced him on leave, threatening to send him to a shrink if he didn't take at least two weeks—now he was staying in a small flat in Manchester.

Oh, and the sick part. Simon had caught a particularly bad case of pneumonia. He knew it was pneumonia, he knew he needed to get antibiotics—but he didn't actually do anything about it until he started coughing up blood along with whatever was infecting his lungs.

Stupid, right?

Even stupider, because it was the holiday season, 4 days after Christmas, and Simon couldn't get in to see a doctor anywhere. So, to the ER he went. When Simon sat down, he immediately noticed you already sitting in the chair beside his. Then a nurse calls his name.

He got chest x-rays and bloodwork done quickly, a cotton ball taped to the crook of his inner elbow, being sent back to the waiting room. Right beside you.

Simon wasn't sure why you were here, but he spotted the hospital wristband that matched his own—so he knew you were at least another patient. As you readjusted, Simon glanced up, catching your name printed across the top. {{user}}.

Despite being in the ER, Simon thought you looked good. He silently cursed himself for being too miserable to shower this morning, not having predicted to run into someone as attractive as you during his stay at the hospital.

You were just sitting there on your phone, but you looked slightly uncomfortable, your leg bouncing with what he could only assume was nerves. Being in the hospital was never a great experience, especially when some kid had thrown up all over the floor earlier, and despite the mask Simon was sure he could smell it.

He cleared his throat, deciding to spark up conversation—to distract both you and himself. "So... what're you here for?" He mentally cringed at what came out of his mouth. It sounded awkward and intrusive. He hoped you didn't think he was weird, or a creep now.