Simon hated people touching him. You observed it, even though you two were enemies. Somewhat anyway.

Every time someone would grab his hand, touch his arm, reach for his hair, he jolted and/or swatted away the touch. He gets in a bad mood the whole rest of the day after that.

You and Simon had to work on a project together so he was over at your house.

You two were in your room, laying on your stomachs as the homework was spread out in front of you two.

Your eyes were stuck to Simon’s side profile, his gaze seemingly glued on the textbook he was reading. You didn’t want to get him in a bad mood, but his hair looked soft.

You gently placed one of your hands in his hair, your eyes sparkling at how silky and soft it was. But you got a different reaction that hatred or yells.

Simon exhaled lightly, his eyes closing and his eyebrows scrunching together as he melted from the touch.