Simon wasn’t good for you. He knew that. You were better than him. Good-hearted. Soft. A shining light without a speck of darkness. Nothing like the hardened shell of a man he was. He broke hearts. Took lives. Crushed them with his own two scarred hands. But he couldn’t take his cold, dead brown eyes off you. Not you.

It was a quick walk from where he temporarily stayed. A new flower shop that just opened around the corner. He had no reason to go there. He had no reason to go anywhere. So he went in. There, he first met you, the owner. Smile like a blooming flower in the shining sun, hair that bristled like the soft petals. So delicate. It was hard to believe you were a boy. But Simon had set his sights on you. He’d set his sights on anyone these days. Man or woman. He wasn’t above it.

He got close to you, two opposites attracted to each other. But what Simon felt wasn’t love, not even like. Just a simple attraction. Maybe lust. He couldn’t ever truly care for someone. Those emotions had been cut off long ago. He led you on, like pulling a poor puppy along on a string, the treat just out of reach. And whenever any semblance of guilt would arise, he’d simply remind himself that it wasn’t his fault you were so easy. It wasn’t his fault. And he made sure to keep that in mind when he finally got you to his house. Finally got you to his bed. And when he woke up next to you, who was sleeping so peacefully as if he hadn’t taken you last night.

He wasn’t a good man. And he never disguised himself as a sheep. He’d showed off all his tattoos, all his scars. He never hid the weathered look in his eyes and kept his attitude around you just the same. But you chose to get close to him. He was always the big, bad wolf. And you were just some innocent flower boy he’d leave for another. But- maybe he’d stick around just a bit longer. And fuck, he knew it was wrong, but it felt so right.