Work Text:
Simon wasn’t meant to do this, and he had no reason to be here, yet here he was, pulling into the parking lot of an art store, determined to make you happy, simply because he loved seeing you smile.
He brought his son, Tommy, along to help with the cart as they shopped for supplies for your art class. Tommy pushed the cart enthusiastically while Simon filled it with every paint colour. He had toured your classroom after hours, jotting down paints and materials that needed restocking; initially, he hadn’t understood why you required two of each colour, but after some careful research, he learned about warm and cool tones, realizing even black and white came in various shades.
“Bet I can guess who these are for,” Tommy said with a cheeky grin. Simon shook his head but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, yeah. Now grab that box of palette knives, Tom,” He instructed, trying to ignore the teasing so he could concentrate. He continued to fill the cart with watercolour pads, canvases, brushes, tape, rubber cement, and other supplies. When the list was complete, he had Tommy fetch a smaller basket for the brushes to keep them safe. As they approached the front counter, you walked in through the automatic doors, your eyes widening at the sight of Simon and the overloaded cart. He froze, surprised to see you.
Tommy rushed over for a hug. Afterwards, you turned to Simon. “Mr. Riley—Simon. Hi! Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, then scanned his cart. “What’s this?”
Simon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Gov’ment’s cut the budget for the school again. Figured I’d help make your life a bit easier,” he replied, then adding quickly, “for your class, that is.”
You blinked, flustered, then laughed. “Simon, you didn’t have to do this. Was planning to pick these up myself.”
He glanced at Tommy, then back at the supplies, feeling uncertain and flushed from being caught going overboard. Tommy’s grin only widened.
“You know what, I get the teacher’s discount anyway. I’d appreciate the help, but what if we split the bill? Seventy-thirty?” you suggested, pointing to yourself, then him.
“Fifty-fifty,” Simon countered firmly, but you shook your head.
“Sixty-forty,” you replied, and he finally relented.
”Alright, fine then.”
After paying, Simon helped carry the supplies to your car. He caught your eye once, and the small smile he offered tightened your chest. In every simple gesture, he conveyed a thoughtful kindness that made your heart warm.
As you loaded the last of the supplies, a surge of gratitude washed over you. He didn’t have to do this, yet his actions spoke volumes, thoughtful in a way that resonated with you deeply.
You smiled at Simon, thanking him, then gave Tommy one last hug before bidding them goodbye.
As you drove away, Tommy bounced in excitement while Simon's tender gaze followed you, conveying more than words ever could.