Chapter Text
Your secret word is “Angel”. Remember this. It will come in handy.
He snorts a little at that. How coincidental.
The chat starts getting weird about the small reaction.
MoodyBarry:
Why did you smile????
Bricksandbirds:
Simon? Do you have some divine experience to tell us about?
Zara_The_Menace:
Oh my fuck he has a thing about angels
Simon rolls his eyes. Especially at the last one. They're kind of right, though.
“Guys, calm down. I just find it funny how sweet the ending was considering some of the questions.” The game has asked him if he jerked off often. Now it's telling him he's traumatized and a survivor. Maybe it's right, but he doesn't have time to unpack that.
TheFagAndTheHag:
Okay but r we jus gonna ignore the nun thing?????
Oh right. That question. Yes, he has punched a nun. Sister Gertrude had deserved it. She had it coming. Someone was going to do it!
“Guys. Obviously she deserved it! I can't believe you think that low of me!”
The apartment door swings open. They really need to fix those squeaky hinges.
“Hey An–” the word angel gets caught in his throat as he looks back at his chat.
“Oh fiddlesticks, are you live?”
Fiddlesticks. Grace's refusal to curse has only gotten more and more hilarious. Simon hides a laugh in a fake cough.
“Yeah.”
Grace nods silently, out of frame –just how he likes it– and flees.
He's always been a big fan of anonymity ever since the “staggering waste of carbon” incident, as they've been calling it.
Simon looks back at the screen. “Not a fucking word,” he growls. It's only half not a joke.
The apartment they moved into a few months ago is cozy. It's bigger than Grace's last studio and bigger than Simon's whole house growing up. But they have a green antique couch, several bookshelves, and a couple of cats that dust everything in a light coating of black fur.
Zara_The_Menace:
I WAS RIGHT!!