Silas Chapter 1.3 - Sleeping Peacefully

When Nathan told Silas that he had built him his own bar for his 18th birthday, Silas couldn't believe it.
"I saw you one night a few years ago, you've inherited your mother and I's creativity, it just seems to manifest a little differently than with a canvas or with words." His father had told him, "I wanted you to pursue this, maybe you can start your own bar or something, make a little money from this."

Silas immediately began experimenting, using grapes from his mother's garden, which she was ecstatic about. She even started to experiment with the grapes to create more flavorful bunches, scouring the island for seeds she could crossbreed. She created grapes that were so sweet that she couldn't stand it, grapes that were so sour, her face felt permanently puckered after trying one, and everything in between. Silas used every single one of them in his concoctions, trying to create the perfect drinks.

Word caught on about Silas's little venture. People stopped by the house every single day to buy Silas's drinks, or to bravely sample his newest creation (which was usually received well). Eventually the entire village had scrambled together a makeshift bar for Silas, revealing it to him on his birthday. Silas was speechless for this first time in his entire life.

Everyone was proud of Silas, happy that he was finally finding his place among them. Mysteriously, vegetables had stopped being destroyed, chickens no longer squawked all night, and cows stopped ending up tipped over. The village collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

The bar wasn't much to look at but the villagers flocked to it anyway. His very first customer was his old teacher, Mrs. Swiftstream. 

"I always thought you'd end up thrown in the volcano," she told him.

"What?" Silas wasn't sure what she was on about.

"Nothing, don't worry about it. Can I try the sweet one?"

Weeks went by, every one Silas had ever known had stopped by at some point or another, either to drink, to dance, or to try out the pool table someone had managed to polish up and get working again. They'd even managed to find what they all assumed was the full set of pool balls, at least, there were numbers 1 through 8.

The only person that Silas hadn't seen was Marilyn, and she was the only one he cared about. She hadn't stopped by the house, either, and he was starting to get worried about her. He couldn't stop thinking about her. 

One night she finally slipped in the bar looking nervous. Silas hadn't seen her come in. Marilyn couldn't stop worrying about her mother, Keely. She'd gotten sick a few weeks ago, and nothing seemed to help her. She'd starting locating every healing book she could find, had even raided Old Olivia's shack to see what she could find. There were dozens of notebooks scattered around the house, every single one of them filled with notes, drawing of different plants with diagrams, all kinds of things, detailing everything Olivia knew about medicine. Olivia had been only 3 years when the disease had claimed it's last life, but she remembered everything she could, and wrote down many many notes, detailing everything about what the disease had looked like. She'd even copied a few things from a journal her father had kept, though that one was long lost.

It started small, a simple cold, she remembered. Coughing, sneezing, a light fever. After a few weeks, the infected seemed to get better. They'd go about their lives, interacting with others, secretly infecting them, too. After a week of no symptoms, suddenly they'd develop a rash, which became boils that would burst open, infecting anything around them. Soon, the boils would take over the infected's entire body, inside and out, and the infected would struggle to even breathe as their lungs were filled with fluid. Eventually, they would essentially drown. At first, no one would even realize it, the person would just....die. But soon, the entire island would experience it firsthand.

She choose a spot in the corner, combing through the notebook she'd already read a dozen times before, desperately searching for answers. She didn't know what ailed her mother, and Marilyn could not help but think the worst: whatever had wiped us out before, was back. She knew, deep down, that the symptoms didn't match what Olivia had written, but still, she was paranoid. If her mother was infected, then she was too, and it was already too late.

She was so absorbed in reading, that she almost didn't notice that Silas had sat next to her and was talking to her. 

"Hey, Mary....Mary?"

Startled, she looked up, noticing Silas for the first time. "Oh...hey. Hi. Sorry."

"You look troubled," he said matter-of-factly.

"It's my mom. She's sick. I've been reading Olivia's old notebooks, trying to see if there's anything in them that might help me. I know mom is getting old but there has to be something that can help. I know the answer is somewhere in one of these books."

"Find anything useful?" He asked.

"Not yet but maybe I'm just missing something. I think she might have pneumonia, and at her age....it's not good." 

Silas looked at Marilyn's sad eyes and wished he could do something, anything to help her. He remembered his old promise, to make sure she was always laughing, always smiling. 

"I remember seeing a passage that detailed a few plants that would help pneumonia along, but I can't remember where I saw it...." Marilyn trailed off, lost in thought.

"I don't have anything to help your mom, but I do have something to help you." His eyes flashed and Marilyn saw the old, trouble making Silas for a brief second.

"And that is....?" she said nervously.

"Go rack up the pool table, and I'll be back before you can miss me." 

"I don't know if I like where this is going but....okay"

Silas worked quickly, throwing everything he knew about herbs and plants and vegetables to make the perfect drink, a drink that would boost Marilyn's thinking abilities. He dubbed this concoction a Skill Booster, as uncreative as the name was. She seemed to love it, drinking every last drop and announcing that she felt like she could conquer the world. But for now, she'd make due to conquering Silas at pool.

He watched her from across the room, watching her every movement, studying and memorizing her perfect face and body. And suddenly he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The thought of not seeing her every single day caused a deep pain in his chest, of not hearing her voice or her laugh every day, or feeling her soft skin. He wanted to take all her pain, all her worries away, leaving nothing but happiness, contentment.

Suddenly Marilyn was wrapped up in a tight hug, her breath being squeezed right out of her lungs.
"Silas?" His hug had surprised her, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against her had exhilarated her.
"Hi." came his sheepish reply.
"What's uh...are you okay?" she asked.

And then he kissed her.

And she kissed him back.

"I love you, Marilyn. I always have, ever since we were kids. I don't think I've ever stopped loving you, and every time we're apart, it feels like something is missing. The moment you left my life is the moment I stopped being happy, and the moment you came crashing back into my life, is the moment I started being happy again."
Marilyn looked at him for a few long, very, very long seconds. There was so much she wanted to say, and she couldn't think of the words.
"Then let's make sure we're never apart again," she finally said.

That night, Silas had never slept so peacefully.

Chapter 1.4

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Author's note: Silas really IS a trouble maker. Once he hit his teen years, he honestly fought with everyone. The misc fun is to brawl every Sim week, so I gave him the hot-headed trait, and let me tell you, I've never had any Sim start so many arguments, even with this trait! His relationship is in the negative with pretty much everyone except Marilyn (though I can't remember her traits but she's pretty mild mannered). And because I didn't place any roads in this world, only sidewalks, there aren't any cops to come arrest teens for staying out late, but that doesn't stop his parents from constantly scolding him. 

And putting him in time out, even when his energy bar is empty.

He also grows up into pigtails literally for every single birthday.

Silas, you really don't seem the type to wear pigtails, please stop aging up into them, thanks.