He leans on the door and waits for you to notice him. With his arms crossed over his broad chest and muscles taut, as his blue eyes flit toward you, Simon is just waiting for you to turn your head.

“What the fuck?!” Your voice is nothing more than a squeak as you jump near out of your skin—seeing one of your best friends standing in your dorm room wearing a skull balaclava.

“Naughty little thing, using language like that.” He tsk’s and steps closer, closing the door behind him.