Does Simon Ever Ask MOB About Her Family? If Someone Is Out Looking For Her?

Does Simon ever ask MOB about her family? If someone is out looking for her?

mail-order bride

"olways wanted to ask," simon murmurs. he talks into your hair, his face pressed close to you as he hugs you closer. it's late; the black cat is curled up on the windowsill, and the orange one is under the covers, tucked into the space between you and simon's feet. your eyes flutter open a little more at the sound of his voice, laced with sleep.

"ask what?"

"about before."

you close your eyes, pressed your face into his chest, and he smooths a big palm down your back.

"is there someone waiting for ya?"

"no," you say softly.

"were ya running from somethin'?"

you shake your head slowly. "no, simon."

"no one is lookin' fer ya? no one at oll?"

you curl your fingers around his shirt, your lip trembling just a little. you're glad for the darkness of the room. he can't see the struggled look on your face as you try and compose yourself.

"why are you surprised?" you sniffle. it's the first time in a long time that you suddenly feel vulnerable. in the many months it has been since you've been married to him, you have not felt anything but love. even before you understood the connection you had, simon has always been kind and unnervingly considerate and endlessly thoughtful. every insecurity you ever had has slowly faded into the background. you have never felt more beautiful, more secure, more supported, more deserving, ever in your entire life; but this began with simon. everything that came before him, you want to forget, you want to make a distant place that you don't recognize anymore. because as soon as you think about it, all of it comes back. the drop in your chest tells you enough. "no one's ever wanted me, simon."

if i disappear, i'm not sure who would even think to look for me.

his hand in your hair tightens. big fingers scratching along your scalp, drawing you close, and when you open your eyes, you see his own looking back at you.

the feeling in your chest is gone. simon is here. simon would come for you. wherever you are, whatever happens to you, simon would notice, simon would listen, simon will come if you cry.

he would notice if you went missing for even a few minutes. even if he was gone, he would know.

"well...i want you, baby," simon whispers, and you crawl over him, laying on top of him, trying to wrap yourself around him and smother him because fuck, i love you so much.

simon never brings it up again. he doesn't need to. the only family of yours he needs to be concerned with is himself.

and the nitwit biting his toes under the fucking blankets.