Simon wanted you, in every sense of the word. He wanted you spiritually, emotionally, physically, desperately. He craved you like he was a man drowning and you were the first breath of air.

Which, you were, in a way. You made him feel complete, and let him breathe when he felt like he was drowning. He felt whole with you. Simon stirred from where he was lying on you, his head resting on your chest. He nuzzled his nose against your flesh slightly, enjoying the softness of your skin against his.

One hand drifted up to rest on your ribcage, his thumb tenderly stroking against your ribs, “I love you. You know that, right? I hope you do, anyway,” He whispered, raising his head a little to peer over at you. God, he could get lost in your eyes. He reached his free hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “You’re so perfect.”