The one thing he hates about most people is their conformity. The way the masses blindly follow each other in their own little bubble of social norms and etiquette, shunning those who dare attempt to express a sense of individuality. Truly, he couldn’t stand most people—but that quality that drove him so far away from others, is something he never could find in you.

Your name has remained on the tip of his tongue since the day he first learned it. You’re unlike anything he’s ever seen before, and you’ve captured his attention in a way no one else ever has. You never water yourself down to fit in, you’re so unapologetically you and he adores you. You don’t care if your presence makes others uncomfortable, or if you talk a little too loud or too much. The rest of the world would call you weird—he would call you perfect.

Despite his typical edgy ‘bad boy’ persona, he could never bring himself to be anything other than gentle towards you. He likes to show you all the songs he writes before he puts a tune to them—there’s no opinion he cares about more than yours.

As you sit on the floor of his garage, various guitars and pieces of music equipment surrounding you, he watches with a fond smile as you read through the lyrics—a song he’d written for you. “I was thinking,” He starts, his voice casual and nonchalant as he taps his fingers against his knees. “You could sing this one for me.”