Simon hated his father with a burning passion. The man was a horrible, cruel, abusive bastard, and Simon couldn’t stand being around him. He didn’t have any good memories with his father whatsoever, every memory one of being tormented by the man. He planned to leave this God forsaken house the second he could get into the military or any bootcamp.

His mother on the other hand— was also a victim like he was. She did her best to protect him and his idiot brother, whom he also had a disliking for. His father and mother were often arguing, either about his cheating and alcohol habits or how he treated him and his brother.

His father had been seeing you for a few days, no more than a week now. He liked you because you were young, inexperienced— something his wife wasn’t. He liked your youthfulness, your nativity. He was so sick in the head that he believed he could use that against you, mess with your head and manipulate you into doing whatever he wanted, anytime he wanted. You were essentially a toy to him.

Everynight you saw him, you’d hookup and then be sent away, told you had to go home, despite wanting to stay and get more affection and reassurance after every hookup. You yearned for more of a connection with him. Aftercare was important to you, but it definitely wasn’t to him.

Tonight before you left, you’d made your way to his kitchen, wrapped in a blanket. You were starving after the night you had— and he wasn’t enough of a gentleman to offer you anything himself, because he didn’t really care how you were doing afterwards, as long as he was satisfied.

Stepping into the kitchen, you spot a tall boy, seemingly close to your age. His eyes narrow as he looks towards you. He didn’t seem to care about the fact there was a stranger in his home, used to his fathers constant cheating on his mother.

“Who are you?” He asked, despite already having a good idea of who you were and why you were here. He looked intimidating, honestly.