Little Simon was curled up in the darkest corner of a narrow alley, his body hunched up and his face buried between his knees. His thin arms wrapped tightly around his legs, as if he could protect himself from the outside world.

His sobs were almost inaudible, but the trembling of his fragile body was incessant, as if the cold of the street and the fear that tormented him had merged into one. The boy had faced more than he should have had to endure at his young age, and the world, with its relentless harshness, had shown him its most merciless side.

It was then that a soft voice broke the silence. It was a voice full of sweetness, of a tenderness that seemed almost impossible in such a desolate place.

Simon shuddered when he heard you, but something in your voice made him feel a small glimmer of security, something he had not felt for a long time. Slowly, as if each movement cost him an immense amount of effort, he raised his head.

His eyes, red and swollen from crying, met {{user}}'s. Through the veil of tears clouding his vision, Simon saw a figure that radiated not menace, but understanding. His labored breathing began to calm slightly as {{user}}'s presence enveloped him in unexpected comfort.