Chapter Text
Simon let out a huff as he set down the last box. Pushing his shoulder length, wavy black hair back, he stood up and took a moment to look around the empty store. Well, empty save for the stacks of cardboard boxes. There would be a lot of unpacking and setting up to do but that was for another day. He still had yet to unpack the very few things he had for his apartment.
“Is that the last one?” Ava’s voice came from the door. Her brown hair was braided as usual, falling over her shoulder. With the way the sun shone against her face, she looked much older. Extenuated by her persistently tired expression. The scar that ran through her left eye was another reminder of just how much she has lived through.
Simon turned to her for a second and gave a simple nod. His right arm unconsciously reached over to his left prosthetic one, brushing over the exposed metal parts of his hand that he couldn't hide under the sleeves of his sweater. Phantom pain still haunted him and he could never quite get used to the feeling of cold metal occasionally brushing against his side.
“I'll get going then,” Ava stated, giving Simon one last look over before turning away. “Goodbye.”
“Bye,” Simon replied, not bothering to watch her walk back to the moving truck and drive away.
It was a bit of a surprise to him that she had even bothered helping him move in. Perhaps it was some guilt over what she had made him do.
He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. It was probably time to call it a day here and get his apartment in order first. He made his way to the back door locking it before he exited through the front, making sure to lock it behind him. His apartment was about a forty minute walk away, taking the bus could cut the time down to ten but he decided not to take the bus. Sitting still in a small area with people cramped together brought back unpleasant memories. Plus, he felt he had more control over his time. The watch on his right arm read 1521. He’ll get back to the apartment by 1600. Unpacking shouldn’t take him too long with how little he had. Perhaps he would be able to sleep early today, if his brain decided to cooperate.
The streets of this city always had at least a few people going about their day and a lot of cars. Simon honestly did not remember the name of this place. It was made up of two words and one of them started with S and that was about all he remembered. He wasn’t well travelled, unless you count being deployed, nor had he really been educated on things outside of the small community he was raised in.
Simon silently walked at a steady pace, like he had somewhere important to be. From a glance he looked rather unapproachable. Dressed in dark colours, his dark hair hanging in front of his face, and his resting face came across as brooding. He had a large scar across the left side of his face too, which is why he always had his hair down to somewhat obscure it. The other scars that littered his body were much easier to hide. Simon’s intimidating appearance didn’t bother him all that much since he would rather not be approached by anyone anyways but… Well, his ex-therapist said he needed to make connections. He couldn’t actually get any more sessions in before he could learn how exactly to make connections.
The walk back to the apartment was entirely uneventful, which to Simon was a win. He entered the building and headed for the stairs despite the fact that he lived on the eighth floor. Simon wasn't a big fan of elevators.
When he exited the stairwell he heard the elevators ding as he walked past.
Then he was suddenly shoved against the floor.
“Shoot! I am so sorry- Didn’t mean to run into you.” A man with disheveled blond hair was standing over him, reaching a hand out to Simon.
“What the fuck…” he muttered to himself.
He doesn’t take the offer and pushes himself off up the ground. The other man’s hand lingers awkwardly in the air for a second before he pulls it back to adjust his askewed glasses. Simon took note of the scars covering the man's hands and presumably his arm. From what he could tell they were burn scars, and his hands were trembling slightly.
“Sorry, again. I was in a hurry, that's my fault,” the man rambled, picking up some papers from the floor and placing them back in the stack in his arms. He stood back up. Simon was a few inches shorter than him.
“It’s fine,” Simon replied, looking the man up and down. He was rather fit, probably why he was able to even knock Simon over. A bag was clung over his shoulders and under the cardigan he had on was a black shirt with some sort of graph on it and some text that said ‘I had potential’. Simon didn’t understand what that meant.
The other man’s gaze dropped to the scar on his face. Simon was used to people staring by now but this man didn’t share the same expression most people did when seeing it. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly the expression meant.
“Uhm… I’m Dr. Ryland Grace-” Ryland shook his head. “No, uhm, Ryland Grace. Everyone just calls me Grace.” He held a hand out to Simon again though quickly withdrew it.
“Simon…” He hesitated a bit, then decided to not disclose his last name.
Grace doesn’t seem to question it. “Nice to meet you, Simon.” He gave a smile to Simon, one he did not return.
“Nice to meet you too…” These words felt unfamiliar on his tongue but he uttered them out anyway for the sake of politeness.
“I'm assuming you live on this floor too?” Grace began walking down the hall. Simon simply replied with a nod which Grace caught from the corner of his eye. “I live in apartment 812.”
Oh. He lived across from Simon.
“This place isn't too bad, affordable for San Francisco too.” Ah, that was the name of this city. Hopefully Simon will remember that. “I mean I'm getting by with a teacher’s salary so it's something- Sorry, I'm talking too much aren't I?”
“It's fine,” Simon murmured. He really didn't mind, beat him having to fill in the silence as they walked down the hall. It wouldn't have been a long walk but the awkward silence probably would've made it feel longer. Speaking of which they've both reached their respective apartments now. Across from the other.
“Well, uh, this is my stop,” Grace stated, fishing for his keys with one hand as he held his papers in the other.
Simon reached for his keys too.
“Oh! You live in 813? We're neighbors! Isn't that nice?” Grace grinned as he unlocked his own door. “I'll see you around then. Have a good rest of your day, Simon!”
He watched as Grace waved a goodbye, keys still in hand making a jingling noise as he did. Then the door closed. His signal to enter his own apartment.
Once his own door shut he took in a deep breath. What an… interesting man. At least the interaction went well. Maybe he was learning how to make connections like his therapist suggested. Though, Grace really did all the work there. No matter, he had things to unpack and then he could finally get some rest.
Before he could even begin he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open to see a series of texts from Ava.
-
I'm being called back.
14:18pm
You're on your own now.
14:18pm
Good luck.
14:19pm
-
Simon scoffed a bit at the sentiment. On your own. He's always been on his own. He closed his phone, not bothering to reply back to Ava.
The apartment wasn't very big but was decent enough. A small entrance area with a bathroom to the left. Down the small entrance hall was a laundry room and past that the living room and to the right the kitchen. A door in the living room led to the bedroom. There was a small balcony attached to the living room with a glass door and large windows that allowed lots of natural light.
Everything he had was in a small stack of boxes in the living room and a suitcase which contained his clothes and a laptop. Simon made his way over and began the process of unpacking.
And as he did with everything, he did this in silence. It didn't take him long either. He didn't have any furniture either. A futon was laid down in his bedroom, a hamper set in a corner and thankfully there was a closet built into the room he could put his clothes in. There was a stack of books next to his futon alongside his laptop and a night light. The bathroom had just some essentials as well as medication. He really had next to nothing in the kitchen. A singular set of utensils, two plates, a bowl, a mug, and a kettle. There was a box of tea packets his therapist had given to him as a parting gift.
Once Simon had all the important stuff out he took out the finishing touches. Some house plants that were just placed on the kitchen counters since he had no other furniture. And of course he set a watering can next to them. Not that the plants were going to need them all too often with them being succulents and cacti.
When Simon checked the time again two hours had passed. The setting sun’s orange glow filled the apartment. He took a quick shower before disappearing into his bedroom for the day. Grabbing a book on botany, he sat down flipping through the pages as he prepared to settle down for the night. Simon flipped the night light on and took his prosthetic arm off as the sky dimmed and filled with glittering stars.
The last thing he remembered as he drifted off was glancing at the stars outside, twinkling against the darkness of night. The moon glowed bright next to them. His thoughts wandered a bit more, between his start of a new life, to Ava, to the man he had talked to earlier. Ryland Grace. Then those thoughts faded to nothing.
-
Grace finally woke up after his fifth alarm went off. He slipped out of bed with a groan and fumbled for his glasses. His morning routine was always a little… haphazard. He started his coffee machine before making his way to the bathroom and getting himself ready for the day.
His apartment was a little messy to say the least. There was a stack of half graded papers on the coffee table, a few misplaced articles of clothing, and some dishes piled up in the sink. His work desk in his room always at least had a drawer open that he would accidentally bump his knee into. Ryland considered his apartment to be an organized mess. As long as he could still locate his stuff and everything was still up to health code then it was fine. When Grace checked the time it was 6:32am. Fudge, thirty minutes to get to school if he wanted to get at least half an hour of prep time. He quickly grabbed his bag, downed his coffee, and headed for the door. His glasses were simply hanging from one ear as he fumbled to lock the apartment door. As he was doing so he heard another door open.
“Oh, Simon! G’morning,” he greeted his neighbor, trying to sound cheery despite his tiredness.
“Morning.” Simon was giving him a weird look as he turned to look at him. Ah, it was probably his glasses. Grace quickly readjusted then.
“What's got you up so early?” he asked, watching Simon close and lock his own door.
“Work,” The man answered simply, brushing some hair out of his face with his left hand. Grace’s mind came to a pause as he noticed the prosthetic. Absentmindedly, he wondered what Simon could have gone through to have gotten the scar on his face and lose an arm. Easy answer was probably combat.
They walked down the hall together and Simon silently let Grace continue to talk about his occupation. When they arrived at the elevator, Simon turned to head to the stairwell.
“Why don't you take the elevator?”
“... They freak me the fuck out,” he answered gruffly. A sign for Grace to not pry more.
“Ah, then uh, I'll see you around then, Simon. Good luck with work!” he said, making his way into the elevator as it arrived with a ding.
“You too.” And Simon disappeared into the stairwell.
Grace let out a small sigh as the elevator doors closed. That interaction went well, he thought. He was always the real talkative kind so he was just glad Simon did not just tell him to shut up.
The rest of his morning and afternoon went fine, falling into the same routine it always did. Of course there were a few hiccups here and there but that was an expected part of being a teacher. Though one bigger hiccup was him missing the bus home. And the next bus wouldn't arrive until the next hour at that point he might as well walk home. If only his bike was not still being repaired, he would not even be needing to take the bus in the first place. Grace stood at the bus stop shaking his head and internally reprimanding himself as he pulled his phone out. Well, one positive would come out of this and that was he knew Rocky would have a laugh about this. He began his walk home as he texted his friend.
-
missed the bus );
3:56pm
haha grace dumb dumb dumb 🤣🤣🤣
3:56pm
Okay.
3:57pm
you dont need to rub it in
3:57pm
did yuo see your hot neighor thsi morning 🫢
3:57pm
i did not say he was HOT
3:58pm
i said he was objectively attractive
3:58pm
rocky! :D is typing….
-
Grace closed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket before he could see Rocky's reply. He can feel his phone buzz a few times before going silent. Gosh, Rocky was such a gossip queen. Grace has only interacted with Simon a grand total of twice and Rocky was already acting like this. Sure the man definitely seemed far more interesting than your average Joe just from appearances alone but Grace did not know anything more about him. Nor was he about to make assumptions. Maybe they could be friends, maybe not.
Anything beyond that was off the table. Having lived a grand total of thirty eight years, romance and sex were rarely ever on his mind. He had messed around a lot during his young college years but all of it was pretty vapid. Now he has been single for years and he was perfectly content and happy with that.
Plus, objectively, Simon was good looking. Even under the sweater he could tell the man was well built and his quiet brooding nature gave off a mysterious alluring energy.
He walked down the streets with noise cancelling headphones on. They were playing music that sounded more like ambient noises and random musical tones. The walk was peaceful, his eyes liked wandering around even though he had seen every corner of these streets. Though about twenty minutes into his walk something caught his eye.
And as he approached the mostly empty storefront that caught his eye, someone caught his eye. That someone was Simon.
He was standing inside the shop, building and setting up shelves. Grace came to a stop at the large window of the place, eyes darting around the shop. Boxes, pots, and planters littered the place. Right up against the window was a whole line of plants, vibrant green leaves with flowers every hue of the rainbow. A pile of bags of dirt and fertilizer laid in the back of the room. There's a register desk where a Venus flytrap plant and of course the register was set up. A basket of what he assumed to be seed packets was also placed on the corner of the desk.
Simon somehow noticed him just standing there, probably from his shadow blocking out the sunlight seeping through the window, and turned to look at Grace.
He gave an awkward wave and a smile. Simon simply replied with a raise of a hand.
The man was busy, he should leave him alone, Grace told himself, turning away. He glanced at Simon one more time before strolling off. Simon was already back to assembling his shelves.
What a coincidence that this shop Simon had was on the same route of the school he worked out. He probably passed it this morning. Grace smiled to himself a little about the thought of such an intimidating big man taking care of little plants.
When Grace arrived back home he instantly tossed his bag aside and flopped down on the couch. After about five minutes of just laying there, face down against the cushion, he sat up with a groan. He had papers to grade, he should get to that. Then his stomach growled. Okay, nevermind he should eat first, but then he thought about the dishes in the sink. Maybe he should wash those first. Actually what did he even have to eat? He got up and made his way to the fridge, checking it then the cupboards.
Seems like he should have gone to get groceries at some point this week. It is fine. He will do that tomorrow... Hopefully. Guess it was another day of eating instant noodles. Grace cleaned his dishes then made some instant noodles. He grabbed the papers he needed to grade and went through them while he ate.
As he sifted through the papers, his mind began to wander. They went through the usual things that were on his mind, his kids, his plans for the week, but then they stopped at the thought of his neighbor. The image of a scruffed up man with scars across his face and an arm missing running what he could only presume to be a flower shop was certainly intriguing. And kind of cute. Grace could not help but want to know more about the man. And he wondered if they could share some similar stories as he unconsciously brushed against the scars across his arm.
He shook his head and forced his attention back to his work.