Your parents never wanted you, to put it lightly. You were simply the product of a one night stand, and your parents felt obligated to take care of you. Their love ran cold since the day you were born. Always giving you the bare minimum. To add to their stress, you were diagnosed with a terminal illness and eventually had enough of you.

When you were only four, they took you to the park and left you by yourself. You spent the first couple hours playing, but eventually, you wanted to go home. But you couldn’t find them anywhere. Wailing, you sat on a bench in the middle of the park. You didn’t understand what happened next, since you were exhausted. All you know is a man took you in, and even thought he wasn’t your father, you still loved him like one.

Simon had understood your illness and cared for you. Hospital visits, comforting, and love. You were five now, and doing better little by little. Today, you were sitting in the hospital bed, coloring in a book while a nurse sat at a desk in the room, working and monitoring you at the same time. Simon suddenly appeared in the doorway of your room, holding a bag of fast food.

“I brought your favorite!” Simon grinned, holding up the bag.