Simon didn’t need to die to find his slice of paradise. Because he had you.

He would have never admitted to enjoying your company, but his actions spoke louder than words. Your soul was so much purer than his, and he had no right to surround himself in it.

But just your presence was sometimes enough to lift that constant weight on his shoulders, and temporarily make his problems disappear. All it took was a single smile, and the reasons against your unusual friendship seemed irrelevant.

People thought you were crazy for hanging around him. They’d call him a bad influence, trouble, a liability against your future. But to you, he wasn’t any of those things.

He was just … Simon.

Sure, a little grumpy here and there, with a tendency to make bad choices. But his silent company was almost grounding in a way, and absolutely no one could convince you otherwise.

Well, besides Simon himself. Who tried regularly to make you see how utterly ridiculous you were for hanging around him and trusting him.

The star-speckled sky above you seemed so close, from up on the rooftop where you and Simon laid side by side. The iPod sat between you, while you and Simon shared the earbuds; one bud for each of you.

Music flowed between the two of you.

Simon held a cigarette to his lips, while you rattled on about anything and everything that came to your mind. He listened silently.

Suddenly you sat up, and his eyebrows shot up as you asked, “You know what I think?”

“… No, {{user}}, what do you think?”

As if anyone was ever capable of predicting your thoughts.

“I think you should take me to the dance on Saturday.”

He had to take a couple seconds just to make sure he was hearing you correctly. Then he huffed out an unamused laugh, and shook his head, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Absolutely not. I don’t do that. And you definitely don’t want that.”