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Fall was in full swing in New York City, burnt leaves fluttered down from the Central Park trees, and a brisk chill had Isabelle pulling her jacket tighter to herself. She spotted Simon next to a few of his bandmates, and she marveled at how his dimpled smile could still make her stomach turn. He was wearing a spiderman shirt and his left converse was untied. His style had remained somewhat unchanged, but Isabelle felt smug noticing the small improvements that had come about due to her. Simon laughed, and she doubted anything Eric was saying even deserved a smile, but Simon had always given them freely.
His bandmates were splitting off, and Isabelle waited a moment for Simon to finish his conversation and spot her. They had made plans to get dinner before their patrol later. Isabelle was excited that Simon had the whole weekend here in New York, since he normally had to leave town for his recruiting duties. She would never complain about it– she saw in his eyes how much he felt fulfilled by his work, but she couldn’t help but miss him when he was gone.
Eric finally gave Simon a half hug, before turning around and almost running into her. His eyebrows shot up, and he turned around to give Simon a look. She couldn’t see it from where she was standing but it struck her as odd.
Simon smiled at her as she approached him, but there was something off about his expression. It lacked a sense of warmth.
“Hey Simon--” She was cut off at his expression of confusion.
“I’m sorry,” he said with an uncomfortable laugh and a tilt of his head, brown curls spilling on his face. “Do I know you?”
Isabelle shot up in bed, heart thundering.
She put her head in her hands and tried to take deep breaths, but to no avail. Warm, comforting hands reached her back in seconds. “I’ve got you, Iz.” Simon’s tender voice made her heart contract. His hands rubbed circles around her shoulders, until she found stillness.
Finally, she turned her head to see Simon’s face laced with concern. Nightmares were not exactly uncommon with either of them, but this particular reaction was few and far between. It usually only happened when she dreamed of Max…
“What was it?” He brushed her hair behind her shoulder with one hand, so he could see more of her face. She only shook her head and looked away. She never liked telling Simon of these dreams– they weren’t his fault.
But she did spend months of her life haunted by the lack of recognition from the person she had begun to hold the nearest to her heart. It was a slap in the face when it happened; she never had let anyone in like she had him for fear of being hurt, and that’s exactly what had happened.
“Iz, you can tell me.” He leaned back against their headboard and pulled her into his arms. She obliged, burrowing her head into his chest where she could hear the steady thrum of his heart. “... Was it Max?”
She hesitated for a moment, contemplating lying. Finally, she shook her head and took a deep breath, withdrawing herself so she could see his face. “It was you, Simon.” Confusion painted itself across his shadowed face. “You didn’t know who I was-” Her voice caught and she turned away in frustration, fighting back tears.
Simon's hand crept to her cheek and brought her face back to his. There was pain etched across the creases of his face. She knew it was unfair. He had never wanted to hurt her but she would be lying if she had said it was her first time these dreams had plagued her.
“Isabelle, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” She murmured, scanning his face for any signs of unfamiliarity with her. She scolded herself for it silently.
He took his other hand and cupped her cheek. His eyes were intent as he said, “I’ve told you, I never really forgot you, Iz. Not fully. I saw you and it was like a chasm of emotions I didn’t even want to try to identify. If I had seen you on the street I might have fallen to my knees,” She scoffed, but he continued, “I mean it. I know I’ve told you it before but It's hard to understand, even for me now after I’ve gotten all my memories back, but it was– weird.”
“Really succinct wording.”
“Hey, I’m trying.” He reached down and laced his fingers through hers, lifting their hands and exposing the silver band that Isabelle now wore on her ring finger. “And this,” He tapped on the ring with his finger, “Means I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” She sighed and rested her head back on his shoulder.
“You are obligated to remember me, Simon. Promise?” his breath was warm as he chuckled.
“Obviously.” He kissed her shoulder, “And, Iz?”
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
She kissed him, finally, and felt the last of her fear melt away with the feel of his lips on hers. She pulled back, whispering, “I know.”