NINE

Simon lay in the guest bed that had been provided to him by Ciara, the covers on the bed were soft and the quilt was patchwork, covered in floral patterns and fairies, apparently it used to belong to Gracie before it was seen as too 'babyish' for her and she started to prefer cars and aeroplanes and guns and tanks. Gracie still very much enjoyed 'girlie' things though, she often wore pink and purple and all those famous colours associated with being a girl, but she also enjoyed playing in the mud and watching movies probably a little too old for her including guns and violence and death.

As Simon stared up at the wooden beams that ran along the ceiling he couldn't help but wonder why Connor wanted to leave this place, of course, a university degree would always be useful, but Simon always thought that if you were naturally gifted, like Connor was, in something such as artwork, that you didn't need a degree as a measure of talent. Then it occurred to him that maybe the shiny, perfect surface was all it was; a surface, and there were hidden, darker layers to the Hartland family.

Of course, Simon had heard little about what actually happens within the household, and he didn't feel like he had a good enough connection with any of them, even Connor, to ask such personal questions. As his fingers fumbled, his eyes narrowed and he chewed the inside of his cheek, his mind still whirled. No whole family photos around the house- they were either in sibling pairs or singular person photos, like school photos or the occasional photo of Connor holding Gracie in front of a building or tree or animal.

The more Simon thought the drier his throat became, he sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp before realising his glass had run dry too.
He sighs, getting up, grabbing his glass and heading downstairs, immediately regretting not putting on some slippers or socks as his cold feet walk across the wooden floor. As he gets down the stairs he notices a pool of orange light coming from the living room, he passes by, heading for the kitchen, not thinking much of it until he hears the stifled sob of someone in the living room.

He pauses, and contemplates going back to his room, he hovers for a moment before stepping back, a creaky floorboard sounds and he lets out a deep sigh.

"Gracie? Is that you?" The mutter comes and Simon makes himself known, stepping into the kitchen and then into the living room.

"Sorry, Ciara, its just me," He says, a small smile on his lips.

She gives the boy a wide, fake smile- he'd seen that smile on his own mothers face a thousand times over.

"I was just knitting again, and thinking too much, as always," Ciara says, rubbing her hands over her eyes to clear the tears.

"Would you like a drink? Maybe tea?" Simon offers and the woman smiles, a humble glow seemed to be radiating off the fire onto her.

"Its fine, I'll make one myself, you head on back to bed," She says and Simon shakes his head, walking to the kitchen.

"I'll do it," He says, turning on the kettle and preparing a cup each for both of them.

It takes about 2 minutes for the kettle to boil completely and Simon pours the heated water into the cups and allows the teabags to rest before throwing them out and adding milk and sugar, he'd memorised that Ciara usually had two sugars.

He carries the cups into the living room and places them both down on the coffee table, smiling at Ciara as he does so.

"Thank you, you really are a diamond," Ciara says, her hands shaking a little as she reaches for the warm mug.

"Its not a problem," He smiles softly, looking from Ciara to the fire, "Are you okay? I know thats a stupid question but I thought I'd ask,"

"I'm just stressing, after all, Connor goes back to university next week and I'll be here with Gracie and I just...She adores her brother so much and I feel so inadequate," She says, "Sorry, I shouldn't be dragging you down into my problems,"

"No, its fine, Ciara, you deserve to talk to someone about it, and I really don't mind, I couldn't sleep anyway," He smiles back, taking a sip of tea, it burns the roof of his mouth but he doesn't mind.

"I feel bad, she speaks about her father often, but I refuse to let that man anywhere near her after how he treated Connor, and I daren't let another of my babies get scarred by a belt or a cigarette," Ciara says, drinking her tea too.

Simon's throat clenches, "My father used to abuse me, and my mother, he's in prison,"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I hope I haven't brought back any bad memories, I'd hate to hurt you like that,"

"No, I'm not bothered by talking about it, in fact I prefer to, it helps people understand that things can get better, like it did for me and my mum," Simon says and he gives Ciara a small smile, "Your ex husband isn't here anymore, he's out being an asshole and pulling your son over for no reason, but I've seen Connor handle him, if he were to step into his house Connor would fly back to Ireland in a heartbeat to kick his ass- I can promise you that,"

"You're such a sweet boy, I feel like this family doesn't even deserve your company," Ciara chuckles, "Keep being like this, even when people don't appreciate it, because its precious,"

"Thank you, and thank you again for letting me stay here, your son is a good man, and you've done well by a horrible situation," Simon says, "Has he always been the way he is? Boisterous and sarcastic?"

"Yes, I think he gets it from me," She chuckles, "He's a good lad, helps out, but he's cheeky and he liked to push and push until you snap- thats probably how you two became friends? Because once my son wants something, he tries and tries and tries and he rarely ever gives up,"

"Actually," Simon chuckles, "Thats exactly how we became friends,"

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Yaaaaaaaaaaaaa yEET

anyway

thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed!

much love to the most Savage fam on Wattpad!

~lachys-loch
❤️