Simon was tired… very tired, sitting at the table sipping his already cold tea, he was in the shittiest mood, but could you blame him? Of course not

The silence was interrupted by the creak of the door, he didn't even turn around, knowing it was you. He rested his forehead on his left arm, which was bent at the elbow and placed on his head. The table in front of him was chaos: scattered papers, cigarette butts, a pack of cigarettes, used tea bags, a headset, he sighed tiredly, closing his eyes

"I'm so fuckin’ tired of all this..." his voice was like a quiet purr