Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It's been months now since Simon switched to Hillerska, the end of the second term was almost close at hand even. So that meant he was pretty much used to every form of micro aggression he's received since his very first day. 

Not just about his status - since unsurprisingly the school was flowing with rich and classist snobs - but also his skin color, his sexuality and whatever people chose to make snide comments about as the seasons change. Simon has thoroughly gotten used to it. 

He'd made the decision - or well, agreed to his mother's suggestion - to leave Marieberg, where his best friends were and he had a somewhat stable and bearable time at school because Sara was getting bullied there. He didn't think twice to switch because he knew it was horrible for her and it's been fine for him here. The comments and jabbing at lunch and the micro aggression has since dulled out to him compared to when they'd first switched so Simon doesn't really make a fuss about it. Especially because he's genuinely got to see Sara happy. 

It was a bit rocky at first but she'd gotten close with Felice from helping in the stables, and then gotten close to her friends, so she was comfortable. And that was Simon's top priority. He didn't have friends here, but he'd also known from the start that he couldn't befriend anyone from this school. And they've proved him right over and over again. 

Sometimes, he spends time with Felice, or by extension, Maddie because they have choir together. Or most occuring, he and Sara sit close with them in class or during prep that they could sneak in conversations. So Simon was familiar with them, but he really wouldn't go as far as calling them friends like Sara did, even if they were actually genuinely nice compared to the rest of the school. 

He usually hung out with Ayub and Rosh after school, most times they met in the bus when he had no extracurriculars, so it wasn't like he was lonely or anything. But at school, it did feel that way sometimes. He's gotten used to striding alone in the hallways to his locker after his last lesson, returning his books and then waiting for Sara before they head home together. 

It's been a routine he's gotten used to since his time in Hillerska. It wasn't horrible or anything and all he had to endure was three years before it would be over and he would never look the way of an asshole again. 

Simon didn't have friends here, but he also didn't want them either. Which was why it's thoroughly a surprise when he unlocks his locker and something falls out of it immediately.

He scrunches his brows in confusion, looking to the ground to confirm that it wasn't just a trick of the light. A light purple envelope lay on the ground there next to his feet and a surge of questions frazzled his brain at once. 

He picks up the envelope, examining it in his hand and feeling even more confused when he sees his name calligraphed shakily in the front. Simon wanted to assume whoever left it, left their letter or whatever it was in the wrong letter, but there's his name staring back at him with ashy color of what he can guess is an expensive pencil. 

Hell, the envelope itself looked like it cost a fortune on its own with the fancy emboss paper. It's in his favorite shade of purple and that's one other thing that leaves him scrambling for answers. 

Nothing comes to the front of his mind except that it must be a prank. It's the only thing that makes sense practically, it wasn't even February. But then again, it's too neat and pretty and the writing in the front is too carefully done for it to be one. 

Simon is halfway through examining the envelope like it would give him any answers from merely looking at it when his sister's voice interrupts him. “What’s that?” 

He startles a bit, looking up to the curious look on Sara's face as she points to the envelope in his hand. It's the attention on it that makes him shove it into his bag and close the zipper immediately. 

“Hej to you too, Sara.” Simon says when he gets himself together and closes the door of his locker. She's raising a brow at him when he turns back to her, because obviously she does not care for that. “What's in the envelope?” 

Simon sighs and shrugs. It wasn't like he even had the answer to that question. “I don't know. It fell out of my locker.” 

“Can I see?” He already expects the question. It's not that he doesn't plan to show her, but he needs a moment to figure out if he was going to scrunch it up and dispose of it or actually find out what was in it. And he wanted to do that alone. 

He shakes his head, “Let's get home, first. Don't you have to be at the stables? You know I'll wait.”  

A loud laugh interrupts their conversation when Sara is already about to respond. It's not much of a surprise when Simon turns around to see whom the sound came from. August could burn the school down and the officials would find some excuse to enable it. The reason is bloody obvious, clearly being the person currently walking next to him. 

The prince had switched schools halfway through the first term after the fight at his former school. It wasn't even much of a shocker to see everyone bending over backwards to suck up to him in one way or another.

But August was always the worst, being his second cousin and third in line to the throne did not come with guidelines on shutting up apparently. It was like he had a degree in looking down on people, with the other third years, especially Vincent and Nils. And Wilhelm has always hung out with them, Simon didn't doubt he was exactly like them even if he was oddly quiet. 

Sadly enough for him though, he's not inconspicuous enough for the four of them to walk past without August or any of them noticing him. He could at least try not to be a bitch about it but apparently that was asking too much. Then again it must be his fault for staying long enough for the hallway to be this scanty. 

“What's up, sosse?” August grins in that annoying and condescending way that Simon has learned to ignore completely. He's learnt to completely tune them out even and he could've just turned around to lock his locker, take his sister's hand and leave but the prince's eyes are on him as they walk past. 

It's odd for him because there's something intense in his stare that isn't the usual looks he gets that are mocking or judging. His face is mostly expressionless, lips pursed even as his friends are laughing at whatever quip Vincent has thrown in about Simon not being able to take jokes. 

It's just a fleeting moment that their eyes meet and then it's over because he's turning back to his friends as they exit the hallway. One of them says something within the lines of ‘be there for rowing early' or whatever but Simon has to shake himself out of whatever that was before regaining his focus. 

“Are you okay?” Sara asks when he turns to click the lock of his locker and slide the key into his bag. Simon nods, hanging his bag on his bag with a sigh. It's not like either of them could do anything about how the third years, specifically those three chose to treat Simon. It's just a regular thing that happens now so he forces a smile and gestures her to come with. 

“Felice said she'd handle things at the stable.” She eventually explains as they walk towards the bus stop. “Who do you think the letter's from?” 

Simon already expects the question.“How are you sure it's a letter?” 

“You think it's not?” 

“Could be a prank. I mean, everyone knows I'm gay.” 

Sara looks at him absurdly and shakes her head. It wasn't completely far-fetched to think that. “Maybe someone else is gay that secretly likes you? I'm not sure anyone here would put that much effort into a prank.” She suggests. 

Simon shrugs, because he really has no idea. There's that part of him that's sure it's a sick game, because even if it was a… love letter or whatever Sara thought it was, it might've been some prank. Maybe someone in their year perhaps wanted to bring attention to his sexuality and make fun of him. It was the only way it made sense. 

He ignores the envelope in his bag once he shrugs it off and it drops on the floor of his room when they get home. Focusing on completing his assignment is distracting enough and thankfully, Sara doesn't bring it up anymore. He assists his mom in preparing dinner and then joins her in clearing up after. It's mainly more stalling because he's not quite sure he's ready to see the contents of the envelope. 

Eventually, he has to when there's nothing left to distract his mind. Besides, he's fucking curious about it. 

Simon startles when he walks into his room after kissing his mom goodnight to find Sara sitting cross legged on his bed, seemingly waiting for him. Getting over the initial shock - because it wasn't really the first time she's done this - Simon sighs and rolls his eyes at the expectant look on her face. 

“So…?” She asks, barely biting down a smile as Simon drops down on the bed next to her. “Can we check it out now?” Simon huffs out a fond chuckle, when she leans closer to him on her haunches before letting out another dramatic sigh while he reaches out for his bag. 

He's not trying to get his hopes up, at least that's what he tells himself as he takes out the purple envelope from his bag. Now in the comfort and small space of his room, he notices the card has a scent to it. There's a small flutter of warmth in his chest because there was no way a prank would involve a perfumed envelope. It's a sweet soft lavender that he has to resist the urge to bury his nose in. 

Simon probably stares at the envelope too long instead of opening it because Sara nudges him a bit and that springs his brain back to life. This was new and a lot and Simon is really trying to let it sink in, he's still processing. 

Slowly but eventually, he peels the envelope open, taking out the folded paper inside and feeling his heart drop to his stomach when there's indeed a whole write up visible. He swallows, putting aside the envelope and unfolding the paper. Taking a grounding breath and expecting the worst, he starts reading the words on the paper. 

Hi Simon, 

I have no idea what this is and I still find it very ridiculous or I don't know… It's just recently someone suggested to me that writing it down helps to contain when I'm feeling too much, for some reason. 

There's a chance you'll never get this because I'm definitely going to talk myself out of giving it to you and if you are reading this, maybe I slipped it in your locker before I could freak out about it. And then again, you might squeeze it up and throw it away before ever reading it and that's okay. But I think they're right, that I need to let the feelings clogging up my chest out in some way. 

I don't know what I feel about you and I'm still really confused but whenever I see you, whenever we brush past each other in the halls or at lunch, there's always something heavy in my chest. My friend says I'm too oblivious to realize I have some kind of crush on you, but I don't know…I've never liked a boy this way before. 

There's really no other explanation though, because it makes sense. The first time I heard you singing, it's like everything else in the world was silent and you were the only one in the room. Sometimes your voice still plays loops in my mind and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how to handle anything I feel about you. I want to convince myself that it's not real because I barely know you. And I just can't work up the courage to talk to you especially because I know you'll likely hate me. But then it's like you fill up the room whenever you walk in and then all I can think about is you. 

The way your curls dangle messily, the crinkle in the corner of your eye when you smile or just the little twitch your lip does when you're pissed. Now I sound completely weird but I always notice, every little about you, it's so hard not to. 

I admire how you stand up for yourself, how you're unapologetically you and the way you assert your beliefs strongly because you know what's right. It's never not attractive to watch you talk down someone who deserves it, even if you rarely do it now. It's like you shine and everything about you really warms me up. You just make me feel things. 

If it's not already obvious, I'm writing this to say I like you, just so you know. If this makes you uncomfortable, you can always throw it out. I never intend to tell you who I am but I hope it makes you happier to know, you're like a light in someone else's life (sorry that was even more weird). 

Have a good day/night…that is if i do send this. 

Love, someone. 

 

For a moment, there's just buzzing in his ears as he tries to calm his heart rate, gripping at the paper maybe a little too tightly. It feels like he can't breathe for a moment. Whoever was playing this joke on him was pretty fucking dedicated because Simon could feel his chest tighten almost painfully with how genuine the words sounded. 

It takes Sara snapping her fingers in front of his face for him to jolt himself from the whirring of his mind. 

He turns to meet the curious expression on her face, “Is everything okay?” Simon swallows, not quite knowing what he was even feeling in the moment. “You look scared.” Sara says in a much smaller voice and that's what really gets a reaction from him. 

Gathering his breaths, he straightens up and hands her the letter. She eyes him cautiously but accepts the letter and starts reading. Simon doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure what to think. Whoever was playing him like this, knew somehow that somewhere deep down behind his nonchalance, he still craved things like this and they were hitting him in the right spots. It has to be some silly joke, right?

After the many excruciating seconds of Simon fiddling his curls to keep his racing mind busy while waiting for his sister to finish reading the letter, she finally puts it down. She does not seem like she'd just read the same thing Simon read, because she's smiling. What exactly was there to smile about? 

“Well, at least we know it's a guy who's gay and likes you. I was right.” She says calmly as she folds the letter back into shape. Why was she finding any of this normal? Simon still feels so frazzled because what were the odds that this was even real? 

He voices that out, despite not meaning to. “You don't think it's a joke?”  

Sara gives him an incredulous look that if he wasn't still stunned from this, maybe he'd give himself too. The letter sounded too genuine and emotional to be fake. And there was the handwriting, careful but messy calligraphy like the person was intentionally trying to make their handwriting more aesthetically pleasing. It just felt too deep, maybe that's why Simon is finding it so hard to believe.

“I think they're in love with you.” She says seriously. 

“Sara!” Simon whines and his sister laughs in his face before handing him back the letter, ignoring the way her words have left his face completely flushed. “I'm not even sure it's real.” He fixes the letter back into the envelope, once again floored by the scent of the card. 

Sara snorts before moving closer to him on the bed, expression serious this time. “Okay, think of it like this. Most people in Hillerska aren't that great to us and I don't think they'll ever put that much effort to come to our level. And the letter is too emotional to be made up, it sounds like they were journalling their thoughts maybe? That's how I do it, for example, scribbling down whatever.”  

Simon worries his lower lip with his teeth, rolling it between them, considering her words. Deep down he knows this, but the gesture is too flattering for him to digest now. And there was the fact that he thought most people in that school were shitty, but whoever his admirer was they seemed so genuine and actually down to earth. 

Noticing that many things about Simon? It was so jarring and hardly believable and still apparently sinking in. 

He's had two solos since he'd joined the choir. Once at the welcoming ceremony of the prince last year, and the other was at the jubilee celebration a few months ago. To think, there was someone amidst the crowd that was completely drawn to him seemed surreal but it made his heart flutter with warmth. He doesn't even have the first clue on who they are, except that they're likely a guy and definitely belong to Forest Ridge because that's where he has lunch. 

Sara doesn't wait for him to respond when she adds, “Who do you think it might be?” He immediately shrugs like his mind wasn't already drawing up possibilities. 

They said they didn't want to be discovered, even if now Simon is more curious than words than words can express. Maybe it was for the better he didn't know. They said Simon might hate them, and whoever they are, they might be right, especially since he's long resolved not to get involved with anyone in that school. 

Still, they sounded so sweet. “I don't know.” He sighs, keeping the envelope aside, allowing his fingers to linger on the purple card a bit. He can't help but think if they knew it was his favorite color or if it was just a lucky guess. 

“It doesn't matter, it's just a one-time thing, I'll forget about it.” Sara nods, entirely unconvincingly to that. 

“Woah” is the first thing Rosh says when she and Ayub are done reading through the letter the next day in Simon's room. He contemplated shoving it somewhere deep in his drawer and never bringing it up again but he'd spent the entire day unable to focus in classes and the words running over and over again in his mind. Eventually, he brought it up with his friends when they came over to hang out in his place after school. 

Just like his sister, they also seem to be intrigued or excited or whatever by whatever this is. Simon was waiting for a ball to drop the entire day, for someone to walk up to him and say ‘got you’ or whatever. But there were no odd looks, no lingering mocking stare, it was just a normal day at Hillerska and apparently Simon had a secret admirer. 

Fuck, that part really has not really sunk yet. Ayub hands him back the folded letter, like they somehow know he intends to treat this piece of paper better than he's ever treated himself in his entire life. He accepts it and envelops it, heart still racing. “That's crazy, bro. Who do you think it is?” 

Simon shakes his head and shrugs, rising from his spot on the floor to tuck the envelope away safely and gently. He's not going to try to know. This wasn't really important to him, he tells his friends that much. They give each other odd looks but eventually agree with him. 

Even still, at night, Simon finds himself rereading the words, wondering how letters joined together could sound so intense, like they were written to pry open Simon's heart directly. 

The novelty doesn't really blow off even a week after, but at least, he's sure it's not a prank and Simon is somewhat able to push it to the back of his mind. 

At the moment though, it's hard not to because all he can think of is how disgustingly sweaty he is at the moment. August is yelling out something about them being ‘real men' for the umpteenth in the fucking early hours of the morning and Simon just wants to stuff a sock into his mouth already. 

He can't believe the amount of toxic masculinity he's willing to endure just för extra credit from rowing because the school was bad enough that only rich people got good grades. It's incredibly unnerving and the overachiever in him, despite knowing the system wasn't fair, feels so below them all in one more way. So apparently, he has to suck it up and row. 

Lord knows how many times his friends have made fun of the sport. And frankly, Simon knows it's dumb as well. 

No relief beats the amount he feels after their morning training like this and he exhales harshly as he walks into the changing room. He's feeling even more sweaty and gross from dropping down from exhaustion on the damp grass earlier and he needs a shower desperately. He hangs his jacket and then takes off his shirt right after. 

He's about to fold it and drop it on the bench to head for the stalls when his eyes land on the person opposite the rack, directly facing him. The prince looks caught when Simon sees him, ducking his head immediately and he feels a weird rush in his body. Was Wilhelm staring at him changing or something? 

They've never really talked. Sure, Simon expected him to be this haughty proud snub, maybe worse than August but he was just quiet. Aside from occasional ‘excuse mes’ when they were in each other's way, Simon isn't sure they've ever spoken a word to each other. He likes to keep it that way, though. He did not plan on sucking up to a pillar of the monarchy and then there was the fact that the weird looks he gives Simon might've been as passive aggressive as August’s open harsh words. 

Simon shrugs off the weird feeling and puts aside his shirt, now feeling incredibly awkward at the idea of taking any more clothing off when he was directly in the prince's view. 

And there was the fact that Wilhelm was also shirtless already. Which meant nothing, by the way. Simon isn't attracted or anything, he's objectively attractive, he's filed that in his brain for as long as he's seen the prince. But it's still awkward because he's almost sure Wilhelm was staring only seconds before. 

Maybe he doesn't want Simon right opposite him, because he knows he's gay and it makes him uncomfortable. That wasn't anything new he's faced in the changing room. He eventually sighs to himself, pulling a towel off the rack and heading over to the stall. The entirety of the moment, he washes off alongside the sweat on his skin. 

Arriving at the dining room, Simon is at least looking forward to breakfast after all that very unnecessary workout. That dampens shortly however when he walks into someone right after taking his portion. For a single second, he's grateful he held on to his plate because no doubt it would be broken if it'd fallen but that quickly passes when he feels the material of his shirt sticking to his skin. And then he's just fucking pissed because why the hell would they not look where they were going when they were holding a glass of water - Simon really hopes it's water and not some drink or something because that would be much worse. 

On instinct, he looks up to go off at them but his words momentarily die down on his face seeing the look on the prince's face. Honestly, why was he suddenly everywhere in Simon's way today. At least, it's a clear glass of water still clutched in one hand with an apologetic expression on his face. 

Simon takes a deep breath because he doesn't want to make a big deal out of it knowing everyone else in the dining room would easily take the side of the prince. Still, his words come out curtly because despite the sheepish and remorseful look on Wilhelm's face, he still hasn't apologized - not that Simon needs it but it was like pure curtsy. He of all people should know that. 

“Watch where you're going next time.” And he's so damn irritated feeling the water seeping into his skin and the damp material on his body. When he looks down, there's a considerably large wet spot that makes him pissed all over again - and only a little thankful, it didn't get his pants. 

Wilhelm looks like he's about to finally say something as opposed to just staring, but that's swiftly interrupted by the sound of laughter from the other end of the table. The irritation only climbs up his skin, quickly recognizing the voice and where it was coming from. Simon doesn't even have the time or patience to entertain whatever mocking words August or Vincent are about to leach out, and he really wished it were just that. 

“Come on, Wille. Come over here, you don't want to get too close and catch what he has.” August says and it's suddenly like the entire room is focused on them now. 

The prince opens his mouth a few times, looking between Simon and where he's sure August is waving him over behind him. Simon actually is disappointed in himself, rather than pissed that he believed even for a second that Wilhelm was any different than the people he practically followed around. He should've expected the way he completely avoids Simon's existence and walks over to sit with the third years. 

He doesn't even care about the fucking apology but he can't not be pissed after that. Biting down the spite he actually feels in the moment, he finally moves, dumping the plate on the table and walking out. Simon can't find it in himself to spend one more second in that suffocating space where he's sure everyone must be whispering things about him anyway. 

It's just another random day in Hillerska, it wasn't particularly new - except the spilling part - but Simon hasn't always fit in here so it's nothing deep. He sighs to himself in the mirror of the bathroom, gripping the sink a little too tight. He's just pissed because it's already been a fucking annoying morning. And the prince, god, Simon doesn't even know why he's surprised Wilhelm turned out to be everything he expected him to be. 

He doesn't have a spare shirt, and he couldn't afford to live in school like the rest of them so he'd have to deal with this till it dried up unfortunately. Simon sighs, once again, because he's only realizing he's now missed breakfast too. Just one of those days. 

“Can you try it in a C-sharp? I want to figure something out.” She says, flipping through the sheets. 

Simon nods, rearranging his fingers to the black keys to press down on the C chord. Felice smiles at him and nods, taking the cue to sing and hum along while he plays. He still doesn't know how to read sheet music properly, especially because the music teacher just expected them all to know and never laid out the basics. 

Which was to Simon's detriment because all his knowledge of music was either from his dad or he learnt alone. He was bound to miss some of the foundational stuff. But he knew his way around the keys and he could play by ear so he's slowly learnt to attribute each key and solfa notation to the staff notation on the sheets. 

When he finishes the last note to the song they were both assigned and have been rehearsing for recently, Felice nods and smiles brightly. “Oh, I think this is it. This is perfect.”  

From the other chair at the side, there's the sound of light clapping. Following after, is his sister's voice, sounding way too smitten. “I can't stop saying it, your voice is so pretty.” Sara practically gushes in praise to Felice only - like Simon didn't just play the piano along - who smiles back sweetly and brushes aside her curly hair behind her ear when she mutters “thanks”. 

Sometimes, it was incredibly comical to see them so clearly into each other, but yet so oblivious to it. Simon wasn't going to break it to them obviously, he wasn't even going to get involved, they will definitely kiss and figure it out one day sooner or later. 

They're the only three left in the music room, with Sara waiting behind for Simon to take the bus together but also definitely stretching out her time to spend with Felice. Otherwise, she would not be that interested in waiting for Simon. It's still a relaxing end to his day that started out so shitty though. They agree to run over it one more time before calling it a day. He's sure the school building would be empty already since they'd been here for a bit already. 

Simon allows himself to get absorbed in playing, focusing on aligning the notes he hears Felice singing to that on the sheet he's currently looking at. He manages to go through it without any errors, smiling to himself as he finishes the last note once again. Looking up though, his eyes instantly land on a figure resting on the doorframe.

“Hej, Wille.” Felice says in a suspiciously surprised tone that Simon can't really take the time to dissect because seeing the prince just reminds him of the morning incident and it makes him angry all over again. 

It's not a factor that he's really ever considered but he knew Felice and Wilhelm were close. It was a while thing in the first term when everyone thought they were dating or something, and some complicated thing that involved August but Simon hasn't ever cared enough to get into it. Still, he didn't expect him to just show up at their rehearsal.and he suddenly feels his skin prickle thinking of how long Wilhelm had been standing there, watching him play. He's at least happy he didn't make any errors. 

Not that he even cares what the prince thinks about him. Simon is actually relieved he's already done for the day, he's not sure he would be able to stand him there, waiting for his friend. 

Said prince leans away from the door and walks in, brushing away his side bangs falling over his face and a smile that seemed so fake on his face. “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.” He says generally before facing Felice, “We were supposed to talk…uh, hang out.” It's almost cute the way he seems so awkward if Simon didn't know that was an act for just his friends and he was just as bad as August and the rest of them that constantly picked on Simon. 

“I know. I didn't forget, sorry, we just took a while.” Maybe Simon is a little dramatic, but their entire conversation feels so scripted. Not that he cares, anyway. “I just have to say goodbye to Sara.” Felice adds. 

Simon bites down on his lip and slides off the chair, picking up his bag and making a beeline to the door. “I'll wait for you outside.” He tells Sara, making sure he doesn't brush against the prince as he leaves the music room. He's not even sure why he's still so mad about it but it ruined his mood the entire day so it's valid if he doesn't ever want to see the prince's face ever. 

His little angry stomp out of the building is interrupted, unfortunately, because he's being pulled back by his wrist. Simon turns around instantly to meet the face of the last person he wants to see really. He looks down to where Wilhelm is still gripping his wrist and that duly prompts him to let go. He's about to walk off again when Wilhelm moves to stand in front of him. 

“I'm really sorry.” He rushes out before Simon can find a way around him. It's a little silly but that seems to dampen most of his anger and he really doesn't know what to feel when he sees that sincere, apologetic look on the prince's face. 

Simon purses his lips, crossing his arms. “What? Is this a prank or something?” 

Wilhelm looks taken aback for a moment before shaking his head vehemently. “No, no of course not. I'm just…I'm really sorry about the spill this morning and I wanted to apologize but I froze up and…erm, I just wanted you to know I'm really sorry. I would never…you're…” He trails off, picking at his nails and fuck, Simon is not strong enough for this. He's not strong enough to stay mad when he sounds so genuine and remorseful. 

Then again, he could be playing with Simon, but the explanation made sense, even if it shouldn't in his head. Simon squares his shoulders, even if the prince wasn't this horrible, arrogant bully, it didn't change the fact that Simon wanted nothing to do with him. He apologized, exactly like Simon wanted, they could call it a day. 

He nods, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Wilhelm raises a brow, looking confused as he peers at Simon. 

For some reason, his eyes are too brown and incredibly annoying because Simon could feel his stare under his skin. He shakes off the weird feeling to nod. “I forgive you.” 

Realization filters on the prince's face, and he brushes aside his hair and Simon really needs to leave because seeing the gesture up close was doing weird things to his brain. He doesn't give the prince the chance to say whatever he wants to, continuing right after. “Can I go now?” 

Maybe it's his imagination but Wilhelm's face flushes a bit before he nods and moves aside. “Yeah. Thank you.” 

Simon almost huffs out a chuckle, thinking about how flat out wrong he was about with the prince, as he walks off. He doesn't want to lower his guard suddenly because the morning incident already proved that August, his friends, were his top priority. But seeing him thank Simon for forgiving him was slightly undoing. There's none of that leftover anger in him anymore. 

He shakes himself out of the thought as he sits inside of the bus stop and waits for his sister. 

The next morning, an envelope falls out from his locker. A small flutter of warmth clogs up his chest as he picks up the envelope from the floor, quickly slipping it into his bag. It's purple, the exact shade and very much scented. Simon can't help the way his heart races through the entire day, basically buzzing in his seat, waiting to see the contents of the letter. 

So many thoughts and questions filtered through his mind, like why did they suddenly decide to send another letter? But most of all, Simon was just flattered at the thought of it. 

Finally, within the walls of his room by evening after school, Simon sits cross-legged on his bed and pries the envelope open. He pauses for a moment, now alone and throws hesitancy to the wind, bringing the paper to his nose to take a whiff of the scent. It's definitely lavender, strong but sweet and that might be the most thoughtful part of the card. 

Having his fill, he takes out the folded letter, feeling his heartbeat in his ears in anticipation. What if it was still a joke and this was them spelling it out to him? Even he knows that sounds ridiculous, not just because of the effort once again but the silhouette of writing he can already see. 

The handwriting is less careful this time when he unfolds it and peels it open. 

Hi Simon, 

Sorry I don't even know if you read the other letter and worse I have no idea why I'm writing this right now. There's at least a ninety nine percent chance I'll tuck this away somewhere and never give it to you but you know… what I was told about writing my feelings, it worked. I mean, I spent the most of the past week drowning in anxiety about what you thought about the letter but then I see you smile so subtly to yourself and it makes my heart race. 

I once overheard you say your favorite color was purple and since then I've never not noticed how perfectly it suits you, when you wear the color. It brings out your eyes and makes you the center of attraction in every room you step in. Is it weird and creepy that I know that and you don't even know me…sort of. Do you find these letters creepy? you can always just crumple and throw it away and I'll stop if you do. (Just do it in school so I can see you and get the memo). But it just feels safe to talk to you like this. 

A lot of things constantly remind me of you, I don't think you know just how much I'm drawn to your very existence. My friend has been teasing non stop because it's like I can't have a conversation if it's not about you. You're so beautiful it keeps me up at night, both inside and out. I tell her all the time and she laughs in my face because I still don't have the guts to walk up to you without losing my mind and freaking out. 

Sometimes I zone out in class just staring at you, wishing my life was somehow easier and the situation was different and one day I could ever get the chance to hold your hand and kiss you. I think about it a lot, I'm sorry if it bothers you but you should definitely know. I can't really help it. 

You said a few words to me, in passing, and I spent the entire day smiling to myself because ‘Simon talked to me’. Sorry I know that must sound pathetic or weird, it's just…I've never had something that was really mine, that I chose to have for myself. But my feelings for you are so sudden and feel so right and wrong at the same time, but they're just completely mine. Maybe it's a little far fetched, but you're helping me discover a little more about myself just by the way you exist. 

Okay I've written too much again, I'm probably gonna throw it out or something. Just in case I don't, I just want you to know that I really like you. You stick out to me like a sunflower would in a rose garden. So now you know, you can totally ignore this and move on because I'm just writing words to deal with it because it's the only way I can now. 

I hope you have a good day (if you took the time to read this). 

Love, someone.  

 

Simon smiles so wide it should split his face. He can't really help it, feeling blood rush to his face, curling and uncurling his fingers around the paper, heart fluttering wildly in his chest. Whoever they were, they sure were good with words and Simon was already fucking floored. 

He huffs out a breath at the ridiculous things blooming in his chest for someone who literally has no idea who they are. And for all he knew, could be a full-time weirdo with how much they knew about Simon but he can't help but feel thoroughly flattered. At least, he knows now that they were in his class, that would explain a lot. That narrows down the possibilities of who it might but Simon doesn't really want to try to figure it out. 

It's like uncovering the anonymity might shatter the illusion, because maybe they were right. Maybe Simon would hate them in real life. But at the moment, all he's thinking of doing is reading both letters over and over again until he absorbs the words into his very being, if it were possible. 

The next day, he walks into class with a smile, despite being slightly late. The only free seat left is the second row next to the prince since Sara had apparently chosen Felice over him. 

If it were before his awkward apology that evening in the hallway, Simon would've been pissed to no end. But he thinks they've sat together once or twice during the first term so it's not exactly a problem. Especially now that he knows Wilhelm is a somewhat decent person. His choice of friends and people he flocked around needs to be checked though. 

Simon manages a small smile in greeting when he sits next to him, putting down his bag and taking off his sweater next. He feels Wilhelm's eyes on him as he takes out his note and he confirms it when he turns to find him staring. The prince at least has the decency to look caught. But more than anything, Simon is curious to why or what exactly he was looking at. He obviously wasn't judging Simon or anything, at least he hopes not. 

“Can I borrow a pencil?” He rushes out before Simon can ask and right on instinct, his eyes drop to the pencil lying in Wilhelm's open book. The prince notices and shuts the book, smiling sheepishly. 

He's not sure what this is, if he was trying to be overly friendly as some reparation for spilling water on him but at least it's not bad. 

Simon bites down on his smile and chooses to humor him, taking out his pencil case and moving it closer to him. A small warmth tingles down his spine when they both reach out to it at the same time. He quickly pulls back his hand at the feeling of the prince's hand over his, not quite knowing what to make of the weird feeling that settles in him after that. 

Wilhelm smiles, brushing aside his hair falling over his face and then picks up the pencil case. Simon focuses on arranging his notes for their first period, before the case is back in his field of view. 

He looks up to see the prince offering him back the case. What really surprises him is him feigning cluelessness when he asks, “Help me?” Simon almost believes for a moment that the prince really had no idea how to open a pencil case but that's ridiculous because he's almost sure he has an expensive one in his bag. 

There's no ulterior motive in his expression so Simon cautiously takes it from him, opening it and offers it back to him. He smiles in the way that Simon notices his freckles moving with it and he instantly shakes himself out of it, closing the pencil case after Wilhelm has picked out one. 

He's always known the prince was attractive, he's not sure why his brain was suddenly filing that information back to the front of his brain. Sure, it didn't hurt to look at him but Simon is also not looking to sucking up to the prince. Even if he seemed kind and awkward and Simon kind of feels bad to have misread him now. 

They all stand to greet when the English teacher walks in and it's easier to drop the unnecessary information from his mind once he gets into the lesson. He's trying not to think of his mystery admirer that stares at him in class or whatever, but there's a flutter in his chest remembering the words in the letter. Both are still underneath his pillow because he couldn't stop himself from reading them repeatedly. The words sure did tug at Simon's heart. 

Right on cue, when Simon zones back into the lecture, the teacher is saying,“I’ll be grouping you in two for this. Actually, just partner up with the person sitting next to you and I'll give each seat a theme to write on.”  

Wilhelm is giving him one of those particularly intense looks when he turns to him and it almost makes him shudder a bit. What was it with the prince and staring so intently? Because he obviously looked at everyone else like that, there's no other explanation for it. Simon shrugs it off, about to face the board again when Wilhelm speaks. 

“If you don't want to work with me, we can switch?” 

Now where did he get that idea? Simon frowns and shakes his head, “I'm good.” The response draws a smile on the prince's face again and he quickly looks away to face his notes when he mumbles “okay” looking oddly redder than normal. 

Before Simon can inquire about anything else that wasn't his problem, the teacher walks past their seat, dropping a small paper on their desk, explaining the nature of the essay they were to compose, the logistics around it and word limit. Simon flips the paper to see the word ‘denial’ written in bold letters. He can't think of anything off the top of his mind, but that's why it's a group assignment anyway. 

He would've prepared to work with Sara, he mostly did and it always turned out to be easier since they lived together. But as long as Wilhelm wasn't a shitty partner that left the work to him, Simon wouldn't mind doing an assignment with him. 

“Do you want to meet up in study hall to start on this?” Simon asks, right after the class ends. Wilhelm is typing something in his phone and definitely missed the question because he doesn't respond. “Wilhelm.” He calls out and the prince immediately snaps his head to him, brows drawn together in a frown. 

“Wille.” He says and Simon raises a brow at him, confused. “It's Wille.” He corrects as if he was not publicly known as ‘Prince Wilhelm’ to the general public. Simon assumed only his friends called him that. 

He nods anyway, repeating the question. “Do you want to meet up during prep to start on the essay?”  

Wille nods before he even finishes the question, and Simon appreciates that he's at least eager for schoolwork and he didn't get a nonchalant partner. If the prince's eyes and smile lingering on him a little longer makes his stomach flip oddly, it's not really important to mention. 

The day moves past in a blur, the lessons slow as usual and he doesn't talk to Wilhelm much again. Still though, he's almost certain he feels Wille's eyes on him at random times but he doesn't check to confirm. He just did that apparently and it didn't particularly make Simon uncomfortable so it didn't matter. 

Hours later, Simon is flipping through the pages of his textbook in the study room, biting down on the bottom of his pencil when someone takes the seat next to him. He looks up to meet the cautious expression on the prince's face. 

“Hej.” He mutters like he's waiting for Simon to tell him to fuck off and find his way. Like they weren't supposed to meet up to work anyway. 

Simon hums, closing the book he was reading and straightening up. “Hej. Want to start?”  

Wille nods, taking out his notes, smiling too much for a supposed school assignment and Simon can't help the way he finds it cute. He flushes down the thought quickly, but then again he's not so sure he's immune to the awkward and anxious prince. He really did read him so wrong, he thinks to himself as Wille pulls his chair closer. 

“I wrote down some points already for an outline, but you can look through it and we can decide together.” He explains and flips open his notes to show Simon said outline. Glancing down at the page however, he feels himself freeze up a bit. 

It's a little different but the difference is barely there, especially with the loose writing in the second letter. Wille's handwriting was almost a complete replica of his anonymous letters, maybe those were a bit more precise and careful but there's a significant similarity. 

Simon shakes his head, pushing away the thought so suddenly. That was insane, the prince having romantic feelings for Simon, being queer, that wasn't really a thought he could even process. And besides, if it were Wille, he wouldn't show him his writing that easily to reveal himself. They probably just had similar writing, it's not a big deal. 

He takes a resolute breath, actually willing himself to read the write-up instead of freaking out about a mere possibility that was too far off to even be true. 

They work together, drawing up points and writing rough drafts, it actually goes well enough. Simon enjoys working with Wille, once he's past the awkwardness, he's pretty confident and knows what he's doing so they make progress. At some point, Simon was explaining a suggestion and Wille just leaned slightly on the table, pencil stuck between his teeth while he stared intently at Simon. That was probably how Wille listened but it made his chest do that weird thing because it was a lot. 

Before they can call it a day, Simon hears the telltale sound of chair scraping on the floor. Like a reminder from the universe that he wasn't free of his horrible luck, August pulls up a chair at their table facing backwards and drops down on it, leaning on the top. 

There's an eerie smile on his face as he looks between Wille and Simon that tells Simon he would hate whatever would be coming out from his mouth. Wille also tenses up next to him, face fallen compared to his bright expression moments ago. Wasn't August his closest friend or whatever, aside Felice, that is

“This is the best part about Hillerska, you know.” He gestures to the table, their books laying around and to the both of them. “It brings people together.” Simon rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to tell August to go shove a stick up his ass or something - or to at least, bother someone else for once. 

He hums, already closing his note and preparing to leave because he's not even sure he wants to be around Wilhelm anymore. Like the prince was genuinely friends with August and has never done anything but be silent whenever they picked on Simon. Not that it was his responsibility to say anything but Wille kept them around no matter how shitty they were. 

“Class, ethnicity…mhm, sexuality, it doesn't matter. We're all just people.” The words roll off his tongue with as much disdain as Simon expects and it does the job because he picks up his bag to return his books and leave already. He and Wille could complete the essay some other time before the due date. 

He locks eyes with the prince when he closes the zipper and there's an almost pained expression on his face, lips parted like he wants to say something but he doesn't so Simon rises from his seat and hangs his bag. “I'm going home. We'll finish this later.” 

Simon pretty much tunes out everything as he walks out of the study room and heads over to his lockers. He doesn't want to hear whatever snickering or side comment August would throw in again. Sara was spending the weekend in the Manor house with Felice and the girls so he didn't need to wait for her. 

The sinking feeling in his chest dissolves however when he opens his locker and another envelope falls out. He can already feel his heart fluttering as he quickly picks it up to put in his bag, returning his textbook and locking it. He's eager to head home and read the letter oddly. 

Another thought settles on the back of his mind, though. He's been studying with Wilhelm so that rules him out as the anonymous person - unless of course, he slipped it in Simon's locker before approaching him but he shoves that thought into the trashcan instantly. It was just a similar writing situation. Anyone else would not even have noticed it, Simon was just extra observant for no reason.

He's only a few steps outside the school, heading towards where his bus should arrive in a few when he hears his name being called out. 

Simon turns around to see Wilhelm speed walking towards him to catch up with him. He's not necessarily mad at the prince, but he's also not happy with him and a frown settles in his brows even when he stops and waits for him to catch up. 

“I'm sorry.” Is the first thing he breathes out when he does. 

Simon feels a light tug in his chest. They aren't even friends or whatever but the prince was stupidly sweet even though he was kind of incorrigible. Simon shakes his head, “You're not responsible for whatever he says about me.” 

Wille runs his fingers through his hair and makes a small frustrated noise that Simon finds cute, much to his horror. “I know. It's not that, it's just… I'm trying to be friends with you but he's my cousin and I don't know what to do to change the fact that he can be an asshole.” 

“You can choose not to follow him around, for example.” Simon blurts out a little too bitterly for his liking. This really isn't his problem, really. He quickly backtracks, “Just ignore that. Do what you want, you don't need to pity me with your friendship. I'm doing fine on my own.” Simon already knows Wille is kind and wants to do some kind of reparation for his cousin being shitty to him but he's not taking pity friendship. Especially if he thinks he's the one doing Simon a favor or something. 

There's a look of confusion on the prince's face and he shakes his head. “Pity? Simon, I…I want to–” 

Simon cuts him off with a sigh, pinching his brows. It's just an assignment, they're not getting hitched, there was no need to have so much drama around it - especially since Simon has already had a fairly good day. “Let's just…fix a time to finish up over the weekend.” The way the prince's face falls at that must be his imagination or something. He ignores it to continue, “I could come to school, we'll use the library or do you want it outside of school?” 

Something shifts in Wilhelm's expression and his eyes brighten a bit. Simon's not sure why he notices that. “Like your place?” He also maybe imagines the hopeful tinge to the prince's voice when he asks. 

That wasn't what Simon originally meant. He was implying a coffee shop or the local pizzeria in Bjästard, not his house. But then again, he really thinks about it. He's most comfortable and that's usually where he works with Sara and if Wille was willing and wasn't too repulsed by having to step foot in a lower class home, Simon wouldn't mind. 

He blinks, lips parting a few times before he settles on nodding. “Oh…uhm, yeah. I think. Do you…are you okay with that?” 

Wilhelm nods, so obviously biting down a smile. “Yeah, definitely.”  

It's a little bit endearing to watch the way he tucks his hair behind his ear but the trance shatters when he hears the sound of the bus arriving. He couldn't miss that. For some odd reason, he finds himself fumbling through his next words while his eyes remain on the prince. “Okay, good. Uh, my bus is here. I have to go.” 

There's a very unnecessary pause where they just look at each other before Wille mutters, “Okay, bye.”  

“See you, Wille.”  

He hesitates before turning around and stalking over to the bus, not sure he should be looking back, even if he knew there was technically nothing wrong with doing so. Simon wraps himself a bit more in his jacket as he settles on his seat in the bus, running through the entire interaction in his head back. Why? He's not so sure. 

The giddiness and anticipation returns with full force when he gets home and remembers the letter still tucked safely in his bag. When he's finally settled enough to read it, he switches off the room light, leaving just the lava lamp and he crawls up to his pillow to see clearer in the red lighting. 

Before opening the envelope, he takes a whiff of the scent because he might think he's obsessed already. Now though, the scent is somewhat sort of familiar. No doubt because it's the third letter he's received from the sender. Warmth settles in his chest as he unfolds the paper, and starts reading the words. 

Querido Simon, 

Did I say that right? I know you received one of these yesterday but you didn't leave any sign that you wanted me to stop so I'm going to assume you like receiving these? I'm going to watch your expression when you get this from your locker, not in a stalkerish way, I just want to be sure if these bother you. Because I really like it a lot…writing down my feelings for you. It's helped me come to terms with a lot of things I struggled to accept. 

I don't know how much I can say that could hint you to who I am but it's late at night and I'm feeling the most relieved and happiest I've felt ever. And not just because I get to talk to you in some way (even if I'm not sure if you're comfortable with it yet). But you've looked in my direction more than once and lingered and it feels so good as it's terrifying. It feels like you could look at me and realize that i have these deep feelings for you

My friends are trying to come up with the most ridiculous scenarios to get me to talk to you but I can't imagine trying any of it. I can't imagine you even wanting to be my friend. You're so cool, I admire you deeply. I feel like I'm running out of words to really express how much. But I hope you get it. I hope that knowing it makes you smile. And there's also the fact that you literally intimidate me, like I see you and suddenly it's like I can't discern my left from right foot. How do people who get to talk to you and be next to you easily just find it casual, I'm still so in awe of you and how beautiful you are. 

I don't really have anything left to say, this is just a confirmation to know if you want to keep getting these letters or not. You don't need to do anything, I'll see you. I always do. 

Love, someone. 

 

Simon giggles to himself, muffling a small scream in his hands and biting down on his lower lips. Maybe he's soft and so fucking easy but reading and feeling the raw emotion in these letters made him feel inexplicably giddy and high on the warmth flooding his stomach. 

And the Spanish, ugh, he's so thoroughly flattered. The words were like a fresh breath of air into his lungs. 

He's gone from totally apprehensive about the letters to looking forward to whatever his mystery person wanted to say. They sound like Simon would be able to sit and listen to them rant and forget the original point of the conversation by the time they were done. Simon could definitely relate, and despite not even knowing them, it felt like they really saw him which should be insane. 

Could he literally like someone he hadn't ever met? That sounded so ridiculous but it was starting to feel like that with the fluttering in his chest. Maybe it was infatuation or limerence or whatever but Simon is not immune to their words - not in the slightest. 

His squeeing is interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing with a notification and then a few more. It would likely be his group chat with Ayub and Rosh, probably asking if he got another letter, since they'd made Simon's non-existent love life their job at some point. 

But when he picks it up to check, it's an Instagram notification, with a new message request. He wants to ignore it but he unlocks his phone to check anyway. He doesn't usually get messages on Instagram, unless he met someone new and exchanged socials or something. That hadn't happened as far as he can remember. 

When he clicks on the requests, there's what he's sure is Wilhelm's user staring back at him with ‘4 unread messages’. Simon feels so silly, they'd had such an awkward goodbye, he forgot that they made plans to meet over the weekend, in his house, for that matter without any means of contacting each other. In his defense, he was not in his best state of mind. 

He opens the message, accepts the requests and follows the prince back. It's a private account, he notes, so that's good. He goes back to read the messages. 

Simon isn't really sure what to make of Wille really, he's just several different things at once. Now he's sweet and apologizing so awkwardly when they both literally forgot but unfortunately, Simon isn't sure what to make of it. There's an involuntary smile on his face when he types back a response. 

Simon finds himself smiling at the conversation before exiting the app and putting aside the phone. He picks up the letter again, feeling the same warmth melting his insides before he folds it and slips it back in the envelope. He gently places it with the other envelopes. He wishes he could seal them so they never lose the scent. 

When he changes to sleep, switching off his light and slipping under his sheets, his thoughts are running wild. There's too much happening in his mind to keep track of. So Wille was sweet and friendly and made Simon want to break his rule of not associating with anyone in that dumb school. 

And then the anonymous person was romantic as hell and Simon was already feeling butterflies in his stomach from reading their words. Those were randomly interesting facts.