( it feels like he goes from the old news of a leaked sex tape, to the public boyfriend of prince wilhelm in a second. there's the distinct moment before wille says anything that simon is — resigned, and not unpleasantly, to the future laid out before him. two years of a secret, a lifetime of wilhelm. it's a shockingly easy choice after he's made it, somehow amazed that he didn't just try it on for size to begin with, but then — maybe he needed the time apart to recognize how badly he really does love wille. time needed to realize that actually, absolutely anything is worth it if he gets to have him. anyway — wille makes a different choice. in the lustrous high of his confessional aftermath, simon feels like he's floating. grinning, ear to ear, listening to the sounds of camera shutters and knowing, unspeakably, that he and wille are in it together.
the high is still going even as the fact of the matter settles in. suddenly simon is someone. suddenly people, sweden at large and the international news, want to know about him. the prince's paramour. it feels like by the time he and wille are ushered into a fancy car back to the palace, there are already magazines out — news articles, trending topics on twitter, a resurgence of the video, wille's speech and the smile he saves for simon alone being retweeted, reblogged, saved, liked, commented on. eventually simon plucks wille's phone out of his grip, and replaces it with his hand. they can freak out together, giddily, panicked, elated and unsure. well — about what all this means, at least. not about each other.
inside the palace, wille is drawn away to converse with some teams of some people that simon really couldn't even guess at their jobs — pr, maybe? — while he's left alone to wander the few rooms available to him. namely, wille's bedroom, which is not as grand as he expected, even if it's cleaned up spotless, the bed made pristine. he's not sure how long it takes before wille comes to find him — time is a confusing, strange thing, when all simon can do is replay wille, again and again and again, choosing him. not hiding him. deciding not to keep them a secret. the doors to his wardrobe are left lazily open and simon, inexplicably, is donning one of wille's sweaters, pressing the long sleeves to his nose and breathing deep.
eventually he notices wille and drops his hands, slightly embarrassed. he clears his throat. )
So, this is your room. ( he gives a small gesture around. and, eventually — out with it. ) Hey, so, are we boyfriends? I know it ... I know that's what everyone's saying online. But we didn't really talk about it first, so ... I mean, that's what I want. Definitely. If you want that.
😇
the high is still going even as the fact of the matter settles in. suddenly simon is someone. suddenly people, sweden at large and the international news, want to know about him. the prince's paramour. it feels like by the time he and wille are ushered into a fancy car back to the palace, there are already magazines out — news articles, trending topics on twitter, a resurgence of the video, wille's speech and the smile he saves for simon alone being retweeted, reblogged, saved, liked, commented on. eventually simon plucks wille's phone out of his grip, and replaces it with his hand. they can freak out together, giddily, panicked, elated and unsure. well — about what all this means, at least. not about each other.
inside the palace, wille is drawn away to converse with some teams of some people that simon really couldn't even guess at their jobs — pr, maybe? — while he's left alone to wander the few rooms available to him. namely, wille's bedroom, which is not as grand as he expected, even if it's cleaned up spotless, the bed made pristine. he's not sure how long it takes before wille comes to find him — time is a confusing, strange thing, when all simon can do is replay wille, again and again and again, choosing him. not hiding him. deciding not to keep them a secret. the doors to his wardrobe are left lazily open and simon, inexplicably, is donning one of wille's sweaters, pressing the long sleeves to his nose and breathing deep.
eventually he notices wille and drops his hands, slightly embarrassed. he clears his throat. )
So, this is your room. ( he gives a small gesture around. and, eventually — out with it. ) Hey, so, are we boyfriends? I know it ... I know that's what everyone's saying online. But we didn't really talk about it first, so ... I mean, that's what I want. Definitely. If you want that.