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“You know that I’m no angel, right?” Simon half-teases with an arched brow after she is done singing, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close on the bed.
“You’re a fucking angel, you’re my angel. All mine, mine, mine…” she sweetly sings into his ear this time. He can feel her smile against his ear and fuck him if it doesn’t make his heart race and ache like crazy.
Just like every time.
He decides that he’ll die a happy man if he can feel her smile like this every day.
“I’m no angel,” he insists.
“You are. To me. You saved me. You can’t deny that. No matter what you do and say, you’ll be always my angel,” Patty says as she nuzzles his neck and that’s what breaks him finally because fuck, he was no one's, and I mean no one's favourite person before: let alone an angel.
Sure, he had a few loyal fans maybe: fans who thought he was amazing and cool, but what the fuck did they know? They only knew John Q. And they sure didn’t think he was an angel. Not that he wanted them to. He knew he was no angel, and he wasn’t aiming for being seen as one by anyone. That wouldn’t be very punk of him, right? Right. Fuck angels, anyway.
Simon is not sure who saved who, actually, so he just lets out a dry chuckle and swallows the lump in his throat as the tears he was holding back gently roll down his cheeks.
It’s a weird and holy feeling; being loved oh so much.
He doesn’t think he has been ever loved like this before; so truly, madly and deeply. Yeah he is quoting Savage Garden okay, sue him. Not even by his parents who were supposed to love him. Because that’s what parents did, he used to think. They would love and accept their kid. Well, apparently that was such bullshit.
Patty, on the other hand, loved him without trying to change him: she accepted him as a whole, loved him as a whole.
Being loved by her was a miracle. She was a miracle in his eyes.
Patty, Patty, Patty…
Kind, funny, sweet, sexy, patient, honest, and just his-kind-of-crazy.
They were living together in their small but cozy apartment for the past seven months and nine days, and yet she never ceased to amaze him every single day.
He buries his nose in her soft hair and sighs.
“I’m sure you would figure something out by yourself to save yourself from that pathetic shit that you used to call ‘life’, eventually. You are punk as fuck and smart as hell, after all. I just… made the process go faster. Diamonds don’t stay hidden all their lives. They can’t. They find a way to shine sooner or later somehow.”
“I don’t remember allowing you to make this about me,” she complains and slightly pulls herself away to look at him. Seeing his tears makes her frown, but she doesn’t mention it or asks if he is okay. She leans her forehead against Simon’s instead, her thump caressing the side of his cheek as he closes his eyes in content. “But hey, at least you didn’t deny that you’re mine.”
“I don’t remember askin' for permission. Everything is about you for me now.”
‘There is no me without you anymore,’ he thinks.
“Is that so?”
“Hell yeah,” he nods. When he opens his eyes, Patty looks at him like he has given her the whole wide world. “You see that streetlight?” He points at the streetlight across the street from their window. “Even that is about you,” he whispers. “It helps me to see you better when you’re sleeping. Big fan of that one, I swear. Beautiful warm yellow. Maybe I should write a song about it later. And of fucking course I’m yours, music girlfriend. Always. Hell, I was yours before you even knew it.”
“Ew, babe, you’re sooo cheesy right now. You’re like, as cheesy as mac and cheese, even.”
That makes Simon laugh. Teach Patty a word and voilà, just watch her start using it all the time.
“I’m just fuckin' with you,” she laughs back. “And I’m yours, too, angel,” she adds as she starts pressing soft kisses on his body: first on his naked chest and then his collarbone, shoulder and jaw.
“This better not become a thing,” feeling his cheek heat a little, he mumbles, his hands wandering up and down her sides.
“What? Me calling you ‘angel’? How about… ‘Punk Angel’ ‘Angel of Punk? But nah, I think I love calling you just ‘angel’ more. Sorry not sorry,” she says with a cocky smile that suits her so much that Simon falls in love with her all over again.
He is utterly captivated by her and her affection.
“Did I ever tell you that your voice is as deep as an abyss that I wouldn’t mind falling into for the rest of my life, angel?”
That sounds like a promise somehow and Simon’s heart suddenly skips a beat. He hopes and wishes it’s a promise because he would give everything for Patty to stay by his side for the rest of his life.
It makes him feel selfish to want her that much even when he has her now, though. He cannot help but feel like one day she will realize she can do better than him and then decide to leave his sorry ass because God knows she deserves better.
Even imagining that makes him feel like dying so he tells his brain to stop thinking such things and focus on the moment they are in instead.
“And you call me cheesy. Oh God, you’re ridiculous.”
“Goddess, you mean, am I right or am I right?”
“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, you adorable and sexy Punk Goddess.”
Satisfied with his answer, she locks their lips together finally. Simon kisses her back like her lips are oxygen and he is a dying astronaut.
“Don’t be surprised if I steal your idea about that The Streetlight song,” Patty lets him know when they pull away eventually. “I think I can pull it off before Saturday and sing it for you at my concert.”
“I have no doubt you could,” holding her close, he yawns and agrees as she lies on his chest.
“Now hush, I gotta watch you sleep while the streetlight accompanies me.”
“Whaa— You creep.”
“What can I say? You’re my inspiration, angel. And don’t act like I don’t catch you watching me sleep nearly every morning.”
“Who? Me? You can prove nothing,” he denies.
“Uh-huh, sure. Sweet dreams.”
“Being with you is like a sweet dream anyway, I need nothing else.”
And with that, he let himself start falling into the warm embrace of sleep. At this point he cannot even remember how he used to sleep alone before he met her.
“He sleeps soundly by her side, without a care,
While she traces his features with a loving stare.
In the quiet of the night, they're alone,
With the streetlight as their silent chaperone,” just when he is about to fall asleep, he vaguely hears Patty singing quietly.
“Sweet streetlight, keep shining bright
As I watch my angel through the night.
Guide him with your gentle light,
In this moment, everything feels right.”
“Wow, you’re fast. That terribly sounds like a gospel for some reason though,” he makes an honest comment, ignoring the way how it made him feel warm inside despite it really sounding like a gospel.
“Shh, I’m just warming up, ignore it. Sleep.”
Simon chuckles and does as he is told after planting a kiss on her forehead and whispering: “I love you.”
“I love you, too, my angel,” is the last thing he hears before falling asleep with a slight smile on his face.
He thinks he can get used to that.