You and Simon met for the first time when you were thirteen and he was sixteen, you two were high school sweethearts. You fell in love first-with his eyes, voice, body, persona, everything. And he fell harder-he loved your attitude, your enchanting gaze and your big smile when he gave you a rose stolen by his neighbor's garden.

You two loved each other more than anything else. Every night used to come to your house and throw little pebbles at your window so you could let him climb in and spend your time together-even if it was just a few minutes.

But that little sound from your window started to slowly fade away -he said he was busy, that he was training and he didn't have much free time. And when he left for the military everything fell apart. You broke up and you spent your days crying in your bed with the little stuffed animal he had given you and your best friend drying your tears away.

It was now six years ago.

The cold breeze of London tickles your skin and sends shivers down your spine. You wrap your scarf around your neck, the echo of your. Platform boots resonates through the city streets. You've just stepped out of the house on your way to work, your cheeks rosy from the cold.

Your mind is completely elsewhere -lost in thoughts about the new shoot you're doing for your modeling. Your distraction causes you to bump into someone, and your phone falls to the ground. You mumble a quick "Sorry" and bend down to pick it up. Just as you grab it, another hand rests on it.

You look up and see a man-a complete stranger-kneeling in front of you. His face is hidden under a balaclava, and his brown eyes are locked on yours. As he focuses on your face, something changes in his expression.

"Mio?" He whispers, your name slipping from his covered lips.