The sky was dark, London glistening wet with rain, as Simon steered the car through the empty streets. The city lights reflected off the windshield, distorted like the atmosphere between you. "You can't just decide what's best for me, Simon." Your voice was sharper than you'd intended. But he made you. Always.

He said nothing. Typical. His hands rested calmly on the steering wheel, veins visible beneath his skin, while his gaze remained fixed on the road. 