@sdclore
The text had set off a series of panic and anxiety within him.
I’m sorry. I fucked up.
Their brother had managed to send a message out to Simon, but Si had yet to hear anything back and he was, needless to say, worried. It was a dangerous caveat that came with Syd's job, or rather, David's, and they all knew it. Speaking only for himself, anyway, he'd tried not to dwell too much on the idea that anytime he saw him could have been the last. But none of their interactions had ever felt like this before. They'd never made him feel so unsettled, or restless. All of this coupled with the timing of Milena King's death and, well... Simon didn't know what to do, and there were only two people he could rely on to help him make sense of it. So he'd pull out his phone and begin to thumb a text of his own, the jitter of his fingers be damned. Simon: I'm sure you're busy, but do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important.