Decision

                                    

                                          
I drift in and out of an uncomfortable sleep all night. The whole time, Simon's sleeping soundly in my arms. But I can hardly sleep for half an hour before waking up again, consumed by stress and overly dramatic worries. I start playing with his hair while he sleeps, the calming motion allowing me to drift off briefly at least a few times.
Eventually I give up on trying to sleep. Around 5 am, according to Simon's alarm clock. I feel each little movement Simon makes, listen to his incoherent mumbling, and watch the light shift in the room as time passes. It starts off pitch black, I can hardly even see the outline of Simon's body beside me. It gets lighter, and lighter, and my nervous nausea increases along with the light. Today we're going to know. Today seems to be the day that will decide the rest of our lives.
Around 8 am, the light spilling in through the thin curtain, Simon finally stirs. He groans softly and stretches. He turns around, all sleepy eyes and soft smile and hoarse voice form sleeping. "You're awake already?"
I nod, but bite my lip. I don't want him to start worrying if I tell him I hardly got any sleep. He presses his forehead against mine and smiles, staring directly into my eyes. I wonder if he truly feels calm or he's just trying to hide his stress for my sake. But if he felt stress he would've probably also had difficulty sleeping. I want to stop thinking so I press my lips against his in a gentle kiss. It tastes the way your breath does in the morning.
I stay there for a moment, pressed against Simon, hoping it will ease the stress. Eventually, though, he pulls away and sits up, stretching his arms wide. I stay lying in bed, watching Simon as he finds clothes to wear. "It'll be okay." I mutter more to myself than him.
He turns to look at me. There's a slight shift in his expression and I think he must be able to sense my tension. He nods. "Yeah. It will." He sighs softly and pulls a sweater over his head. My sweater, I realize. The one I let him borrow once when he spilled blood on himself. It makes my chest flutter a little. That day feels like so long ago. That was before this big mess.
I get out of bed and start getting dressed too, feeling suddenly quite restless. I feel like maybe, the faster everything goes, the faster we'll know what's going to happen with Simon. I start to wonder how my mother will even tell us what she decided on. Will she call, will she come over here, will she summon us to the palace? I bite my lip hard but the question blurts out anyways. "Simon? Do you think she's here in the living room again? To tell us what she decided."
He frowns a little and tilts his head as if in thought. "I don't know, maybe... We'll see in a second."
I nod and take a deep breath, feeling close to terrified. He bends to look in the mirror and fix his curls. I just watch, a million thoughts spinning through my head. I try to reassure myself it'll be okay, but I can't be sure of that.
When we're both done, we head to the kitchen for breakfast. Sara's scrolling on her phone, looking tense and like she's desperate for a distraction. Linda is drinking a coffee while leaning against the kitchen counter. She looks like she didn't sleep at all last night. When she sees us, she sets the coffee cup down and pulls Simon into a hug, muttering things to him in Spanish. I'm so grateful he has his family too.
When they pull apart she looks at me. "Wilhelm." It's strange, she never talks to me much. I give her a little nod of encouragement and she offers me a small smile. "Thank you for being here with Simon. I'm glad he has you."
It's unexpected, but also very sweet. I return her smile and take Simon's hand to hold it gently. We stand there for a few moments slightly awkwardly before she resumes sipping her coffee. Simon tugs my hand and pulls me with him to the other side of the small kitchen. "Eat something, Wille."
I get myself breakfast, but only for Simon. I'm too nervous to have an appetite. He stands beside me, drinking from his bottle. The air feels thick with tension. Everyone seems to be waiting for something, some form of communication from the queen. I feel so nervous I could throw up the breakfast I forced myself to get down.
For another hour, there's nothing. Just silence and tension and a lot of waiting. Linda tries to start a card game but no one has enough focus. This feels like slow, painful torture. At some point, Sara lets out a loud, frustrated sigh. "My god, when are we going to get an answer?"
Linda gives her a warning look. "I don't know, just be patient."
But more time passes, and even after lunch we still haven't heard anything. I'm tempted to call my mother myself and demand an answer, but she definitely won't be happy with that. I just bite my tongue and sit quietly beside Simon, holding his hand and wondering what the hell we'll do depending on the answer she gives. Running away seemed like a good solution before, but now it feels all wrong. What about Simon's family? And it's just not right. Simon shouldn't have to run away just to be free.
That's when someone's phone rings. I turn my head so quickly my neck starts to ache. It's Malin's phone, and she reaches into her pocket to answer. "Hello?" She says in her usual expressionless voice. That's definitely my mother. I squeeze Simon's hand so tightly he winces. I loosen my grip but keep my eyes on Malin, trying to listen to what's being said on the other side of the call. Of course I can't hear a thing.
She lowers the phone slightly. "Linda." Simon's mother is out of her chair in a moment, taking the phone to her ear. Her eyes are wide as she listens to whatever is being said. I can't tell if it's good or bad. I pull Simon a little closer, feeling more anxious than I ever have. The waiting is killing me.
After a few moments of listening, Linda looks at Simon disbelievingly as she slowly lowers the phone. Finally, she tells us. Finally, we know. Her voice is soft and quiet, as if she hardly believes what she's saying. "Simon... you're free."