#simeri

@frostskader​

After everything that had happened, Simba dropped off the face of the earth. He was still in Swynlake, of course, because fate thought it was hilarious and made it so that he couldn’t leave. Even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t, really, he just wanted to ignore everyone. As soon as the first text message had come in, he had just turned his phone off and given it to his husband, telling Ber not to let him have it again until he thought Simba could handle it.

He was sure that Ber had texted Peri. Probably the rest of the campaign team too, but Simba just...couldn’t. He had spent days in a daze, just wandering about the house or laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

But he couldn’t live that way forever. Simba knew that. He had to somehow reclaim this bullshit. It made him angry. He wanted to break things. He wanted to cry. He had done both of these things. Now, there was nothing to do except move forward.

So, he picked himself up and headed to Pixie’s. Ironic, probably, considering, but the funniest part of all of this was that Simba didn’t want to drink anymore. (Physically, yeah, his body ached and in the days he was laid up in his house, part of it had been to keep him from going out and doing exactly what everyone wanted him to.) Now, though, he was fine. 

Well, he didn’t want to drink. He ducked in the front door an hour or so before it was supposed to open, figuring he’d be able to find Peri easily. He could’ve texted her, had her come over or something, but--he figured an apology should be on her turf. Here he was.

He found her in her office and knocked on the open door. “Hey,” he said with a little smile. “You have a second?”