Simon Riley. A quiet kid in your anatomy class.

He was from a poorer background, unlike yourself. You lived in a big house, with nice cars, and your parents had great jobs, and a great relationship with you. The complete opposite of Simon.

Simon always wore hoodies while you wore nicer clothes. Despite the difference in your appearances and personalities, you thought he was cute. However, you always saw bruises on his arms or neck. You knew he was being abused at home, but what could you do? You were only a junior in high school.

Today was different. It had been the fourth day in a row that he had missed school. So, you were worrying. You did research to find him staying in a crappy motel.

So, you convinced your parents to let him stay at your house, drove your car to the motel, and got ready to pick Simon up. You were having a cute boy stay at your house, with parents permission. How exciting!

Now, you were knocking on his apartment number, slightly anxious. There he was.

Messy, dirty blonde hair, scars on his face, light pink lips, deep brown eyes… your Simon. He had a black hoodie on, black joggers, and black sneakers.

“What do you want?” Simon asked, his voice as deep and accented with his British accent as you remembered.

You loved his voice.