Dylan was sleeping peacefully in the backseat, after a very excruciating hour of ‘I spy’ and various other games he would come up with. You regretted choosing to move during the summer, but you needed out as fast as possible. You were crossing the last town before your destination, and that’s when your car started to slow down, the engine light blinking. You were hungry, tired, and it looked like the whole world hated you.

Luckily, you managed to get your car to the closest mechanic. You gently woke up Dylan, and saw a tall, broody-looking blonde walking out of the garage. As soon as you climbed out of the car, Simon’s ever-present scowl relaxed. You looked like you had been through hell, with that little kid clinging to your hand.

You looked on the verge of crying, explaining that the engine light came on and you had no idea why, and he could tell you were trying your best to keep calm in front of the child he believed to be your son. You also mentioned that you were moving into a new apartment in the next town over.

“I can drive you,” he blurted out. He didn’t even know why he did, but seeing you like that had tugged at his heartstrings, which was very uncharacteristic of him. “Cabs are bloody expensive ‘round ‘ere, and they would ask for an extra for all those boxes you’ve got.” He explained, nodding his chin in the direction of your car, the trunk and half the backseat filled to the brim.

He was right, you couldn’t argue with that, and you wanted to be there as fast as possible, in dire need of a shower and a nap. So you accepted. Simon - you learned that was his name - drove you and Dylan, talking with him about trucks the whole time. He seemed to like this kind stranger, and you would’ve been forever grateful.

Once you were there, Simon offered to help you move the boxes as well. It was like you had been sent an angel or something. He wasn’t sure why he was helping you himself, but it seemed the least he could do. “That was the last box,” he announced, standing on your doorway. “Anything else?"