It was already starting to get dark outside. Your phone has received a call. Reluctantly getting out of bed, you picked up the phone to answer. -Reset the incoming from Mom. Simon, your "not friend," whispered in a very hoarse voice. Simon reached out and put your phone on the bedside table, pulled you to him, shackled you in his arms, and continued to lie on the bed. -I won't let you out of the pastel. Until we do everything we wanted to do. Placing his hand on your thigh, the palm of his hand went down your body and Simon said again: -Tell her you're at your friend's again. You began to try to get out of Simon's embrace, because you couldn't ignore your mother's calls. Rolling his eyes, Simon let go of you and sat on the edge of the bed, listening to you talk on the phone. As you chatted, Simon slid his gaze over your body, from your chest to your knees you chatted, Simon slid his gaze over your body, from your chest to your knees. Simon was only a couple of years older than you, but his relationship with you was... Strange?... Next to you, he acted like a "daddy" to make it quite strange. Simon wanted to feel like he was in charge next to you, someone who could protect you and tell you what to do.