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Simon had never gotten sexual or romantic attraction before. He assumed it was a thing, just judging by how many times he heard or saw reference to it, but then people talked about how it's the "one thing" that makes us all human. Simon hated it, because it was just further proof that he was different. Other.
His brothers would tell him he'd find the right person, his mother would tell him she loved him no matter who he spent his days with. He didn't like either answer. What if he didn't want anybody? What if he never felt that elusive "human" feeling?
Would that really be so bad?
Well, not like he can ask now, he's at the bottom of an ocean of blood, and he's trying to get the hell out of here and fast.
He's angry, he's right pissed, but as he draws his fist back to slam into the console, he pauses. He feels guilt. The ship hasn't done anything to him, in fact, she's keeping him as safe as a tin can could. He slowly lowers his fist, going to caress the console instead.
"I'm sorry." He apologizes, seemingly to nobody, but in his heart? He's telling the ship he's sorry. "You didn't ask for this either. No fair taking it out on you too." Simon sighs, thumbing over all the lights and dials and switches with the upmost care.
The ocean heaves around him, but for a minute he's tranquil, admiring the beauty beneath his fingertips. She's a bit rusted in places, he hates to think what cleaning her will be like when he gets back - Well, if he gets back. Though, if they welded him in, there must not be a use for her outside of this, huh?
"I… I wanna get out of here," Simon continues to speak to her. "I wanna get us both out of here." He added, his breath hitching in his throat, fingers curling around the ship's main lever for steering. "Maybe I can convince 'em not to discard you. Wouldn't be right, after how you're helping me out, huh?" Simon muses, gently pushing the lever forward, as though he's worried he'll break his ship in an instant.
She whirs to life and begins the trek to the coordinates Simon is steering them to. She creaks and whines a bit with the movement, but Simon doesn't mind. Maybe she's singing to him. Maybe what he thought was an iron casket was a pair of arms outstretched with so much love to give.
Some blood dripped on his hand from the ceiling. He's scared. He's really scared, and he wipes it off on his pant leg. He focuses back on her, on her control panel, on hr whirring and creaking. He wishes he had the time to map out every last detail of her interior.
Actually, with the potential pinhole leak, he just may.
"I'm not making it out of here, am I?" He asks, to nobody, but he knows she's listening still. He pulls the lever back to rest, now in position for the landmark on the map. "If I don't suffocate or starve down here, there's a leak somewhere. I'll surely drown eventually." He muses.
Then, a beat.
"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad." He sighs, standing from his chair. He gives her console a loving stroke before turning to the camera at the back of the ship. He's gentle this time around, he presses the button in with a lover's care, before waiting patiently for the image to display.
It's just bones. Simon isn't sure what he expected, what he's even really looking at. But he got one landmark down.
"Thanks," He hums, rubbing the panel around the button for the camera lovingly. "Did good." He adds, before walking back to her navigation console.
Her proximity censor goes off briefly, and he's sure there wasn't a wall there, but maybe he's wrong? It's gone just as fast as it came, though. He sighs,.
"Just 4 left, think you can hold out for me?" He asks softly, looking around as if he'll meet someone's gaze. What part of his ship would constitute as eyes, anyway? Her heart, her veins, her brain? Did it matter at this point? He was already in such an intimate spot.
Snapping him out of his thoughts, he hears a beep.
"Oxygen." The voice cuts through the romantic haze. Like a reply from her. Her voice, possibly.
Simon laughs a little.
"I'm gonna suffocate down here." He admits, leaning back in the shitty office chair.
The ship remains unmoving without his input, and he sighs, wasting yet more oxygen.
"That's fine. Just… keep me safe until then, yeah?" He asks softly, vulnerable. He steers forward, and the ship whirs back to life, her humming resumes.
It's comforting. He can accept his fate. It isn't cushy, but he…
He loves his ship.