Taking Care of You

Word Count: 958

Shit.
Simon internally cursed at himself again as he looked down at his ankle which now had turned a dark purple.
He was probably the worst boyfriend ever. He had decided to take Isabelle out on a real date, and since the circus was in time what place would be better? He thought it would be funny. And it was, at first, Isabelle was smiling and laughing more than she had in a long time and Simon swore her eyes sparkled with joy when a clown handed her a ballon animal. This lasted for about 10 minutes before Simon screwed everything up. He hadn't seen the rock before it was too late and he was laying on the ground with a sprained ankle. Isabelle, a skilled warrior, spun around the second she heard Simon shriek, expecting an attack. Seeing him just laying there on the ground therefore made her laugh a bit before she could help him. Then as she checked on him though, she got a bit worried and took him to the emergency room. If the whole situation wasn't bad enough for Simon, Isabelle carried him there. It was kind to say his ego was a bit hurt. The people at the emergency room had fixed him up, but he shouldn't walk on the foot for a while. So, obviously, Izzy had hoisted him up again and carried him to the car and then into the Institute. Thank Raziel, God and all mighty powers Jace wasn't home. Clary had dragged him to an art museum at the other side of town. Alec, though, was home, but he didn't offer Simon more than a disapproving scoff.
Now Simon was seated at his bed staring down at his foot. Isabelle was downstairs making him some soup, despite his efforts of stopping her. He didn't try all that hard, since he already felt too cranky about being so clumsy he ruined the date.
Too caught up in his own thoughts he didn't notice Isabelle standing beside him with a bowl of hot soup.
"I swear to Raziel, Lewis, take the freakin' bowl! It's hot!"
Much like you, Simon thought before he could stop himself. He didn't say it aloud, though, afraid to mess things further. She smiled at his surprised look before she started to hand him the bowl. Simon sat up against the pillows and were about to take the bowl, but when it was only inches away from his fingers Isabelle seemed to get another idea. She snapped he bowl back, the liquid threatening to spill over, with a sheepish smile.
"You know what?"
Simon did not like the sound of mischief in her voice. "I'll feed you," Isabelle finally said after a dramatic pause.
"You can't be serious," Simon blurted out before he could think twice about it. For a second he was scared he might've said something wrong, but he relaxed as she heard her beautiful, clear laughter.
"I'm dead serious," Isabelle stated.
"You're sick and you need someone to take care of you. And as your girlfriend that's my job."
"It's just a sprained ankle," Simon murmured, but Izzy shook her head at him. "Let me take care of you for once," she smiled before feeding him a spoonful of the soup. He was about to ask about what she had just said, but then he tasted the soup. It was fantastic. Unbelievably delicious. There was no way Isabelle Lightwood had made this.
"This is actually delicious!" Simon exclaimed. "Did you expect anything else?" Isabelle questioned in a warning tone.
"Nope." Simon sounded a little too innocent, but Izzy let it pass and laughed with him. After a couple of more spoonfuls of that holy liquid, Simon asked, "Do you like taking care of me?"
Isabelle looked at him like he was brain dead. "Of course I like taking care of you. You're always so kind and think about me and help me, but it's actually nice being the caretaker sometimes."
This was news to Simon, he had never looked at it that way. He had always assumed she thought he was pathetic and weak when she had to take care of him. "Well then," he smiled up at her. "Take care of me."
Laughter rolled out between Izzy's lips as she fed him another spoon. Her hand reached out her hand and brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes. Her hand lingered on Simon's cheek and for a moment they looked at each other before she leaned down and pressed a soft, passionate kiss on his lips. It was short, but it meant the world to Simon. When Isabelle leaned back she couldn't stop herself from laughing when she saw his expression.
By the time Simon had finished his soup he was extremely tired. He had done as Isabelle wished and let her take care of him. They had talked in low voices as she fed him, about the Hogwarts' school system and the change of makeup through the times. It was late and it had been a hectic day, so when he told Izzy he was tired she agreed he should go to sleep. What she didn't agree to was leaving. "Scoot over," she demanded and Simon did not disobey. When she had settled with her head on his chest she dragged the blankets up over them. Simon had an arm around Izzy despite the fact she was supposed to take care of him, but he didn't hear her complaining.
He could already feel sleep starting to pull him in. Then in the dark room and the heavy silence, Isabelle spoke up.
"I have a confession..." she whispered into the night. Breathing in she sighed. "Alec made that soup."