Disclaimer: I don't own Netflix's "The Rain" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: I recently got into "The Rain" and fell in love with the Simone x Martin pairing. character. This is an exploration regarding Simone's romantic feelings and how previous assumptions and dreams measure up to reality.

Warnings: mild sexual content, romance, coming of age, first time, masturbation, oral sex.

Kalopsia

The years in the bunker had given her time to build up her expectations. To create a detailed picture of what she thought it would be like. What she wanted it to be like. Even what she was afraid it would be like.

She'd turned it over in her head during those long nights when she'd had too much energy to sleep. Staring up at the smooth-paned ceiling as her fingers dipped under the elastic of her panties. Rubbing that little nub until her mind splintered into warm, pleasant sparks.

It was never explosive or shattering.

But it was good.

For a long time she figured she was doing it wrong. Wrinkling her nose in irritation as she remembered some of the things her friends had whispered about - at sleepovers or even in texts she'd prayed her parents wouldn't see.

The day the rain came - no, before that – she thought her and Igor might have gotten there.

The rain had changed a lot of things.

Killed a lot of things.

Including dreams.

It didn't stop her from trying though, in her small way. Doggedly resuscitating her future from the dust the same way she changed the filters in the furnace room. Until it became just another chore. Just another routine. Just as much of an annoyance as a familiar friend.

He would be taller than her.

Smart, funny and perfect - with soft lips and wide palms.

She wanted him to be experienced - but not too experienced.

Someone who could toe the line between respectful, but not completely intimated by her father.

More than that, he had to want things.

Like her and Rasmus and a future.

A good job.

A dog.

Maybe even a baby someday.

Oh, and he had to be handsome, of course.

Her younger self was remarkably shallow on top of being surprisingly accurate.

Apparently being selfish had its rewards after all.

His lips were cracked, not smooth. Skin star-studded and rough with callouses that caught on the cotton of her shirt as he lifted her up onto the bunk. Dragging his lips down the curve of her neck as her breasts ached. Chest heaving as he stole all the oxygen with an open grin. His hardness nudging at her thigh, making her feel bold and intimidated all at the same time.

He didn't taste like toothpaste or breath mints or some natural freshness she knew deep down was impossible. He tasted like powdered milk and the stale tart of bran from the cereal they'd shared around the table just a few hours before. Watching Patrick goad Rasmus into playing some sort of card game, while Jean slowly fell asleep listening to Lea as she read out loud from a yellow-paged romance they'd all teased her for stuffing in her pack a couple days earlier.

Nor did Martin fit most of the careful criteria she'd decided on in the bunker when Rasmus wasn't talking to her and the quiet got to be too much. Telling her laughingly the night they'd stumbled into the bunker - drunk and wet with the rain - that he'd joined the military because he had no idea what to do with his life and still didn't. Content to approach things as they came rather than chasing after a bunch of shit that wouldn't make him happy.

But she didn't care.

Because he was better.

Real.

He was real when he leaned in and kissed her softly. The crackling dry of his lips making it fierce somehow - if only in the quietest of ways - as the door to the room they'd claimed for the night swung closed behind them.

Real when he'd asked her one last time if this was okay. Fingers curling around the hem of her shirt, tickling her tummy, as he waited until she nodded before pulling it up and over her head. Making her feel warm and special when he paused for a moment just to look at her. Pupils huge and throat working around an obvious swallow.

It was real enough to make her feel powerful.

To make her want.

She laughed into his mouth when he asked if she'd ever done this before. Shaking her head and brushing their noses together as she squirmed into his lap. The thin of her bra brushing up against his bare chest as his shirt joined hers on the floor. Clumsy and over-eager as the straps went limp and slid down into the inner of her arms. She couldn't stop shivering as he trailed kisses down the red-lined skin that marked the underwire around the cups. Proof enough she'd out grown the thing years ago.

She hiccupped a gasp when his tongue circled her breast, flicking playfully at a nipple before giving the other the same treatment. Feeling a familiar warmth in her lower belly start to build as he went lower, resting her on the cot as he leaned over her briefly - shoulders bunching - before settling down until he was level with her navel. Thumbs curling around the elastic of her shorts.

"Let me?" he breathed, nose nudging into the dip of her belly button before letting his palm come up and cover her mound. Pressing down with the barest amount of pressure - but still enough to make her lips part.

She nodded. Not really sure what she was agreeing to until he eased her shorts and underwear down at the same time. Baring her to the room and him as something in the pit of her belly clenched.

Oh. Oh. He was going to-

"You don't have to," she whispered.

"I want to. You'll like it- trust me," he hummed. Dipping down to drag the rough of his lips across the downy hairs that crowned her sex.

She didn't how she couldn't.

Despite how they'd met, trusting him had been hard only because it'd been so easy.

He'd killed to save them – to protect them - and all she'd felt after the shock had faded was trust. Knowing somehow, even when she'd lashed out at him in anger and confusion, that if there was one thing she could count on, it was him.

"I do, you know," she offered, feeling like she had to fill the silence somehow as he nudged her legs apart. Settling between them as he crooked a finger and petted her there. "I do trust you."

He didn't say anything. He just looked at her with eyes that were better than any words. Making her wonder what would have happened if she'd rationed the food better and never gone out that day. What would have happened if they'd never seen her or decided to follow her back to the bunker.

He was still looking at her when his head dipped down and-

The muscles in her thighs seized as he licked into the seam of her. Parting her lower lips with surprising delicacy as he nudged his nose against her clit. Dragging out a soft little grunt from deep in her throat as he chuckled into her skin.

"Relax..."

She had no avenue for comparison. The sensation was entirely new. Nothing like what she could reach with her fingers or rubbing into the sheets. Feeling him everywhere as he hummed and lapped at her clit – fingers biting into his shoulders because it was that good. Distracting her enough that she didn't know he'd added the curl of his index finger until it started moving shallowly along-side his tongue.

She felt- she felt-

Too much.

She squirmed, instinctively trying to move away. But he held fast. Keeping her there as the world condensed and suddenly she was dripping sweat. Skin hot and every muscle tensed like a bow as she let go of a crush of mewling syllables. Wanting more. Wanting it to stop. Wanting- just wanting-

"Hey," he coaxed, voice soft. "Just let it." Lips and chin shining with her juices. Looking up at her in a way she didn't think she'd ever deserve before she finally nodded – frantic.

Her fingers dug into his hair this time when he buried himself back between her legs. Breaths warm and wet. Able to hear it now as he worked her over in earnest. One finger turning into two as his tongue kept a steady pressure right where she needed it.

Making her wonder, as she teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain, about desperate chances. About Beatrice and Igor and the moment Martin had taken off his mask so she could see his face. About trust and loneliness and the way the woman in the woods had looked as she'd pulled herself out of the ditch - skirt clinging wetly to her thighs like a macabre invitation. About Martin standing between Rasmus and her father as the echoes rebounded around them like concrete screams. About her years of wondering, planning and that one time Rasmus had walked in without knocking and caught her with her fingers between her legs. About-

And then, for the first time in six years, she let herself fall willingly. Crashing down into a muted sea of endorphins and heat. Knowing that Martin was there and would catch her long before she hit the ground.

"What about you?" she asked later, hazy with contentment and sleep as she looked up from the space where his arm and chest hollowed. Aware on some level that he was still half-hard and mostly dressed against her.

"Don't worry about me," he murmured, pressing a kiss into her hair and pulling her close. "We have time."

She smiled and snuggled closer.

But deep down she wondered if that was true.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. This story is now complete.

Reference:.

- kalopsia: the seeing of things as more beautiful than they actually are.

- the male classmate Simone agrees to go out on a date with after their presentation in 1x01 was nameless, but the actor's name was Igor, so I decided to go with that.