Simon hadn’t had much luck when it came to his exe’s and past relationships. Specifically, his last being the worst. The moment he decided to take that final leap and move in with them, it all went to shit.

She became overbearing and controlling, they fought constantly, and Simon’s days off became anything but relaxed with the amount of chores and work shoved on him. He was in charge of everything, with very little time to himself.

She never listened, not once. All they did was yell, and he never won. So, he ended it, and promised himself to a life of independency. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

But then you came along, and while he never budged on moving in with you, he felt relaxed in the relationship. Until of course everyone got kicked out of the Baracks due to a fault in the power grid, and it was either live with 5 other guys in a rental until they fixed it or find somewhere else to stay for the time being.

He’d compromised and decided to stay with you.

It had been okay up until his first day off. You had a morning shift, so he slept in, dreading the moment you would get home. He knew you weren’t her, but the paranoia and trauma of it all stuck around regardless.

He got up an hour before you were set to get home and did everything. The dishes, the laundry, cleaned every surface and room, made breakfast for you. He wanted to avoid any and all possible arguments.

Then you got home, and he was in the kitchen. He instinctively tensed the moment the front door slammed, and his whole body was tightly wound, ready for the dam to break.

Your voice rung out as you walked into the kitchen. “Simon? I hope you remembered to-“

That was it. That was exactly what he was expecting. He cut you off, “For fuck sakes. I’ve done everything and made you breakfast. Can’t you just give me a bloody break?”

You froze. “… Simon, all I was going to ask was if you remembered to take some Advil for your headache. You made me breakfast? It’s your day off.”

His expression slowly changed. “Advil?”