closed starter for @adhereyou 📍 yoon-abrams residence, 22.14 pm
the hardest part of co-existing with your formerly deceased husband, ian finds, turns out to be sharing a bed.
if it was a few months ago, ian would’ve playfully told simeon to scoot over before pressing his own chest against his back, latching onto the older’s body heat and inhaling the woody scent of his soap like its a lifeline.
now? he’s not even sure it’s still the same man he used to know. he’s not even sure that he’s real.
in the end ian opts on getting on his side of the bed without a word, slipping inside the duvet and turning his back against the person sitting on his bed.
”good night.”
Reaching towards the pitcher he placed on the nightstand just half an hour ago, Simeon poured himself some water onto his favorite cup. His throat felt dry yet again and he finished his water in no time. There had been similar occurrences for the past few days, the frequent thirsts that persisted baffled him. Not to mention the inner part of his mouth had been feeling a little weird lately.
Wasn't excessive thirst one of diabetes signs? Perhaps a thorough medical check up was necessary. He made a mental note to book an appointment without telling his husband about it, not wanting to worry him further.
He drank another cup of water before following his spouse's example and laid on his back, facing the ceiling before turning his head to the side, looking at the taut back of his husband the stretch of his pale neck. A slight dull ache pulsed in his mouth, making him run his tongue along the edges of his teeth and his gums. Hmm, he should probably include a dental appointment too...
"No snuggles for me again tonight?" He asked lightly, his words sounded a little hopeful.
