Chapter Text
Adjusting to another human in his space was both easy and hard. Ryland had problems with sharing, so he was totally fine opening up his space to Simon. Heck, he was thrilled to have the other man in his proximity. Having another human being around him was nothing short of a dream.
What was hard about this was that Ryland was completely unpracticed in his human social skills. Much less his cohabitation human social skills.
Being the only person living in his home, Ryland had gotten used to things like walking from the shower to his dresser naked. Simon had a stone-cold poker face, but even he raised an eyebrow when faced with his naked roommate.
Ryland tried to comfort himself with the fact that Simon had his own oddities. The man had a little hoard of food in his room that he thought Ryland didn't know about. But, that was understandable given what Simon had told him about where he came from.
Also, a food storage wasn't the same level as giving another person an eyeful.
Moving on. Ryland was moving on from that. He wasn't going to think about it anymore.
Yup.
Another thing that Ryland did—that he hadn't even considered might bother someone—was sing. He wasn't belting out ballads or anything, but he would sing a little tune while cooking or cleaning. It was something to keep his mouth busy other than talking to himself like a crazy person.
It had seemed like a harmless enough habit; however, Ryland quickly noticed that Simon didn't appreciate it.
He'd been singing an older song—humming where he didn't know the lyrics—doing laundry.
"You are my lucky star~" He folded a shirt. "I saw you from afar~"
As he bent over to pick up a sock he dropped, Ryland noticed Simon glaring at him. Brown eyes fixed on him with unwavering intensity.
That made Ryland shut up immediately, and he gave Simon an awkward, apologetic smile before getting back to the chore.
Maybe, Ryland would've brushed it off as a bad mood if it only happened once. It didn't only happen once though. Every time Ryland sung, Simon would stiffen, stop what he was doing, and glare hard at the other man.
The message was clear.
Ryland didn't exactly need to sing, so it wasn't like giving it up was a huge sacrifice or something. He did kind of miss it sometimes though.
When Simon started taking over the garden, Ryland realized that the afternoons between his classes and before dinner were the perfect opportunity to sing. Ryland would grade assignments, do a chore, or prepare food while letting his mouth move absentmindedly around a tune.
It was a good balance. Simon didn't have to hear him, and Ryland got to keep his little habit.
****
One thing Simon noticed about the angel was that he was bashful. He was beautiful in so many ways but hid that beauty away when others were watching.
Simon thought it made sense: holy things weren't for the eyes of just anyone. The convict considered himself lucky to see Graces bare body even once.
Shy though he was, Grace couldn't seem to help himself when it came to his voice. The angel talked and talked and talked. Simon didn't mind because he found the angel's voice soothing. He especially loved hearing Grace sing.
There had been singing on Eden, but it had been for ceremonies. Their voices all lifted up in a choir, loud and oppressive.
Grace's singing was quiet. It reminded Simon of the softness and warmth of this heaven he found himself in. When he heard the angel sing, Simon was captivated and couldn't look away from the beautiful being.
That bashfulness would resurface though the moment the angel realized he was being watched. To Simon's dismay, Grace sang less and less.
Then, he had been entrusted with a garden. Simon was in awe of being able to care for these sacred plants. He prayed in thanks every day.
Upon returning to the house he shared with the angel though, Simon heard music.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey~"
Simon froze on the doorstep, hand outstretched towards the doorknob. The music—the sound of the angel's voice—washed over him. It was beautiful. Blissful.
"You'll never know, dear. How much I loooooove you~"
Had Grace been singing the entire time Simon was gone? All of the time he'd lingered in the garden felt like a shame. He had indulged and been subsequently punished by missing the angel's lovely voice.
"Please don't take my sunshine away~"
Soon, Grace would expect him for dinner, but Simon sat on the doorstep. He was hopeful that the angel would sing another song.
Tomorrow, he would have to come home a little earlier. Simon wouldn't neglect the garden; nevertheless, he desperately wanted to hear more of Grace's soft singing.