My Better Half (Sequel to My Cup of Tea)

Chapter Nine

This chapter is no plot but I feel like Penny deserved a little something. She and Simon really are the OTP Friendship.

-biblio (bunce) soph

Penelope was not an idiot.

She knew that there was something going on with Simon. It didn't seem like something bad, so she didn't bring it up. He wasn't happier, not exactly, but it felt like he had a bit more life in him. Whatever he was keeping from her, she'd let him keep it until he was ready. She loved him with everything in her, so she needed to respect him.

She wondered, sometimes, if he had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Someone. He was on his mobile more often, and he was almost always smiling at it. If he did have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend, she'd let him keep that from her. She would wait until he wanted to tell her, and, until then, she'd continue to do her best to be by his side.

There was no denying that it had been hard for her to be there for him recently. It killed her to know that she wasn't being a perfect friend, but at least she was trying. It was hard to manage Simon in his current state, especially with the weight of that fateful night in the bathroom weighing on their shoulders. They still hadn't really talked about it––not since he'd gotten out of hospital––and she didn't think it would be good to talk about it. Not for Simon, anyway. So she didn't bring it up. Instead, she went to class and made (or tried to make, anyway) dinner for him when she had the time. He was leaving the flat more often these days, and sometimes he wasn't even home for dinner. Sometimes he'd leave early in the morning and he wouldn't come back until it was dark outside and she was just starting to worry if he'd been kidnapped or something.

He'd started working again, too. That was new. It was good, though. So she decided to start visiting him at The Daily Grind when she could. She'd bring her laptop and her coursework and hunker down in one of the tables in the corner. He'd bring her coffee and tea and pastries to help her through it.

Today was one of those days.

He was covering a shift for someone else on top of his own, so he'd been in the shop since the morning. It was the afternoon when she went in. He looked positively drained, but he didn't look unhappy. If he stayed busy, his mind would shut off. It was hard to really think when you had to please a slew of angry, caffeine-deprived customers.

"Penny," he grinned when she came in. It was mostly empty by then with just two hours until closing. Penny planned on staying the whole time––on walking home with him. Maybe they would stop for dinner somewhere if he was up for it.

"Hi, Simon," she said, moving up to the counter. "Any recommendations?"

That was another thing that Simon had started doing––experimenting with drinks. He only did it for her, presumably because the normal customers had their regular, boring orders and didn't want to try one of his concoctions. She loved his creations. Sometimes the flavors he tried didn't mix well, but she always drank them anyway. He seemed happy behind the counter, making new things. She'd suffer through a bitter lemonade and espresso every once in a while if it kept a smile on his face.

"I've been working up a new one, actually. It's like a sour cherry scone but in a latte."

She grinned. "Sounds great. And could I do a croissant, too?"

"Sure thing. Warmed?"

"Yes please."

He always tried to fight her about paying.

"I'll take it out of my paycheck. It's only fair: you pay most of the bloody rent!"

So, instead of fighting back at him, she always left him a generous tip in the jar.

Once she'd ordered, she headed towards the back to her usual table to set up shop. Simon brought over the drink and the pastry a few minutes later, slipping into the seat across from her. He looked properly knackered, so she offered him some of her latte.

"Long day?"

He nodded and set the cup back down. "It's just the whole double shift thing. What are you working on today?"

She moved her laptop so he could see what she was working on. "A presentation for my political science class. It's about the Trump Administration."

He furrowed his brow, flipping through her slides. "You've got a lot of Tweets in here. Is your professor going to be pissed that it's not, like, 'a scholarly source?'"

"Don't think so. She likes me, anyway. Plus, she told us to make them engaging since we'll be presenting them to the introductory course. What's more engaging than his ridiculous Tweets?"

Simon laughed.

Even though she felt a bit like a prick for even thinking this: it felt good to have Simon's attention. Normally he was so wrapped up in his self-defeating thoughts and behavior that he could barely look around, let alone ask her about her day. She didn't mind because she knew that he was still healing, but it felt good to have a stupid conversation about her political science class. It took her right back to when they'd first met and they'd spend all of their time doing homework. He'd just transferred to her school and he was seriously behind. So, instead of letting him fail his classes and repeat the year, she made an effort to tutor him.

She couldn't help but smile now as he made comments about her presentations (just bits of advice and ideas), because it felt so good to have him back.