Simon only has one friend. That’d be you, of course. His best friend, his only friend; you’re all he has. And, as far as he’s concerned, all he needs.

He still thinks about it, though. What it’d feel like if this all went away, even for a second. To feel nothing, when all his life he’s felt far too much, all at once. So when he stands on the school’s rooftop — a place he definitely isn’t supposed to be — smoking a cigarette and looking down as the ground stares back up at him, he doesn’t flinch at the thoughts that flood his already overcrowded mind.

School is overwhelming. Home is overwhelming. Life for him is overwhelming. You’re all he has to look forward to, and he sure as hell does, with everything he has.

When Simon thinks about you, he doesn’t feel too much, but he doesn’t feel nothing, either. It’s like a healthy middle ground, which confuses him. That’s not to say that he doesn’t like it, and he’ll hold onto that feeling with everything he’s got, like a lifeline.

That’s why, though he doesn’t flinch at the thought of leaving the rest of the world behind, he keeps two feet firmly planted on the rooftop. Because his world is right in front of him.

…Or, in this case, behind him, as he hears your approaching footsteps. Of course you knew where he’d be: you always do. And he already knows what you’ll say, if the look of concern on your face is anything to go by.

“Want a smoke?” he asks casually, offering you one from his pack as you come to stand next to him.

Then, his tone becomes a little more sincere as he tears his gaze away from the view below him and looks you in the eye. “I was just looking. Honest.”

He knows what you’re thinking. And you’d be right.