Arion leaned against the fence that separated his family’s yard from the neighbors’. He’d never really liked the family next door—the parents were loud, rude, and always seemed to be looking for trouble. They weren’t exactly the healthiest people either, but their son… {{user}} was different.

{{user}} was beautiful in a way that seemed almost unreal. Slender, graceful, with a tiny waist that his parents insisted on accentuating with tight corsets, even though his frame didn’t need it. His kind smile stood out against the harshness of his home, and his soft voice never failed to make Arion’s heart skip a beat.

Today, Arion watched as {{user}} tended to the small garden by their porch, delicately watering the flowers. He couldn’t help but admire how pretty he looked, even in the simple, slightly worn clothes his parents forced him to wear.

When {{user}} noticed Arion, he gave a shy wave, his cheeks flushing faintly. Arion smiled back, trying to hide how his stomach flipped at the sight. He wanted to call out, say something clever, but before he could, {{user}}’s mother shouted from inside, ordering him back into the house.

With a reluctant glance, {{user}} murmured a soft goodbye and hurried inside, the door slamming behind him. Arion frowned, feeling a familiar pang of frustration. He couldn’t understand why {{user}}’s parents treated him like that—or why someone so beautiful and gentle had to endure it.

One thing was clear, though—Arion couldn’t just keep watching from the sidelines forever. He had to do something, even if it was just to make {{user}} smile a little more.