Been wanting to post but I'm kinda dry on new ideas, so I present a small part of something I've been working on (and probably will be for a while)
The only thing I'll say is that this is a Simon x reader. Think I'll keep the premise of the work unknown, because this bit probably doesn't make any sense even if I did say what it was
Warm, late afternoon sunlight seeps in through the window, and you see flecks of dust floating about. Bundled in the far corner of your room is a shirt, and possibly a pair of trousers or shorts, too. On the back of the chair in front of your desk is a beaten up backpack, and on the desk itself, stands a figurine of Spider-Man.
You rush to sit up when you spot a boy beside your bed, on the floor, cross-legged.
"Do you want to hang out for a bit? I have nothing to do."
Slowly, you peel your blanket off your body and shuffle closer to the edge of the bed.
You'd missed his voice so dearly.
He shrugs. "I just wanted to see you." He stands and steps in front of you. "You stopped talking to me for a long time. It was… lonely."
For a moment, you take him in. He's obviously taller than you. Pale. Not exactly skinny, rather… well, you can't really tell.
"Something just went… wrong." You leave your bed, and he turns so he's still facing you. "Things happened, and… I'm sorry."
There's silence between you for a few seconds.
"It's in the past," you feel something brush against you. Looking down, you see that he's taken hold of your hand.
It isn't quite clear to you what happens, but you find yourself sat in a field next, sat shoulder to shoulder with him.
"It's nice to hear nothing but the wind." He comments instead.
A gentle breeze shifts the grass beneath you. An empty road sits in front of you, and on the other side, more field continues on for as far as the eye can see. Clouds fill most of the sky, dimming the sunlight.
It seems like you can't look towards him, but you can tell he's still there. Carefully, you drop your head to rest against his shoulder.
"It's nice being here with you."
A darkness follows that you assume is because you've closed your eyes. When light returns, however, your field of vision is entirely blurred and the only presence you feel is your own.
The world around you slows no matter which direction you turn your head towards.
"Simon? Where did you go? Hello?"
From somewhere distant, you hear it—faint sobbing.
"I need to leave… go somewhere far…"
"I don't know what I'm doing wrong… why is it always me?"
"There has to be something more…"
"I don't want to go anymore. Make him understand, Mum! Please!"
Just as it becomes too much, the multitude of voices comes to an abrupt stop. You're left in near darkness, surrounded by complete silence.
"Take your time. I'll wait as long as you need."
Your eyes snap open. A light sweat coats your skin, and you feel a wet trail from your eyes when you wipe a hand over your face.
You reach for your phone under your bed.
You drop your phone back onto the ground.
Have you been in the wrong by keeping your distance, after all?
Have you only been hurting him by staying away?
He'll wait, he said. But waiting is all you seem to have made him done.
Whether he'd meant it, you're unsure. Perhaps it was your wishful thinking speaking, or perhaps it was a sign.
But you know you can't keep fighting what's already been written.