A/N: This was meant to be a character sketch of Simon, but…it turned into something a bit more. Please read and review!
I am laughing so hard I fear that I might burst at the seams as my mother watches me from across the room, looking concerned, perplexed, and frightened. "What's so funny?" she asks me, alarmed.
What's so funny? I think. Nothing at all should be funny about this situation, but for some reason, it is making me feel rather hysterical. The brooch sits on the mantle, and the fire is roaring. The Doyles have just rushed out of the house in search of Gemma, who must have slipped away, leaving behind the brooch and the fire, while I was talking to my mother.
I can't help but think that it's rather funny.
The truth is, Gemma was…interesting for me, to say the least. Upon meeting her, I had the oddest feeling that something would come of it all. But the sheer fact that my emotions were now involved didn't mean that I could reform my ways so easily. I had to want to share that with her…the Absinthe. Of course I hadn't meant for the dreaded Felicity and the quiet Ann to tag along, but before I knew it, I was back to my old ways, and Gemma was alone with me in a rather small and uncomfortable bedroom, gloveless and screaming.
Obviously, that had been rather stupid of me.
But it did all have feeling behind it. It wasn't just the fact that she was beautiful, because I knew plenty more young women even more gorgeous than Gemma, but there was something else about her… She was always saying such strange things, and she was so…full of spirit and vivacity and life. Yes, she acted a bit demure like every good young lady should, but she was funny in more than one way. Not only did she make me laugh, but there was this light inside her, it seemed. When I looked into her eyes, I could see something brewing there. Something magical. Something ravishing.
But of course after the "incident", Gemma seemed a bit wary of me. I'd be a bit wary of myself if I were her, too, but it still hurt. I wanted to make it up to her. I visited her when she was sick and tried to make conversation with her, but there was no response on her part. She just stared at me, vacantly, as if a creature that had once made her laugh and blush was now just…boring.
And so came the brooch. I wasn't quite sure if Gemma felt as I did anymore, but…there was something about her. I could never picture myself with other girls years down the road, but with Gemma, everything seemed a possibility. She was adventurous and full of secrets, and for some reason, although I suspect I lead a much more sheltered life than her, I felt like I could relate to her in that sense. I have my secrets as well, and of course I'm adventurous. For all the things we had in common, there were things we didn't have in common, too, to keep us rounded out.
And now, I am laughing, and my even my father is looking at me as if I'm absurd.
"…would you still care for me, no matter what you came to know?"
I had elicited an awkward answer, not sure what to say. Would I? Didn't it certainly depend? Of course, looking back, a witty remark such as, "I shall still care for you unless you turn out to be a serial killer or perhaps a vampire," might have mended the gap between us, but I hadn't thought of it then…I was too taken aback. And that wasn't necessarily true…how could I be sure what twists and turns life would throw at us?
But now, as I take the brooch off of the mantle and inspect it, and shake my head at the fire which she was so persistent about reigniting, I can't help but think that Gemma Doyle certainly is full of secrets.
And I'm still willing to figure out what they are.