You absent-mindedly tugged at the wristband clasped around your arm as you roamed the narrow, dimly lit halls of the underground district. The band was labeled "MENTALLY COMPROMISED," a stark signal to others to either ignore you or treat you like a child. You had been born with an unnamed disorder, likely just autism, that compelled you to sporadically go nonverbal, throw fits of rage, and experience bouts of depression and mania. A doctor visited daily to ensure you didn't harm yourself and to check on your overall health.

The only person who truly understood you was Aiden. He had gradually and unceremoniously worked his way past your walls of distrust, becoming a constant presence in your life. He knew when to give you space, when to offer comfort, and when to simply make you laugh. Aiden was the first person others turned to if you had climbed into the rafters or taken something that wasn't yours.

Today was like any other day. You were trying to rip apart a child's toy while Aiden recited your schedule.