Simon Riley.

He's proud, eccentric, charming. Used to being desired, never questioned. He confuses admiration with love; his ego is his refuge. You're sweet, yes, but not naive. Tender without being submissive. You don't want anything from him. You don't try to win him over; you live. He's never been told no. At least not truly.

The women used to laugh at his comments, touch his arm for a second too long, look at him as if he were a prize. He knew exactly what to say, when to lean in, when to disappear to make himself indispensable.

And then you arrived. You didn't look at him badly. You didn't look at him too much. You looked at him… normally.

—Do you always talk like that? — you asked him one afternoon, with a calm smile, without irony.

He smiled back, out of habit. "That's how it works for me."

You nodded —Ah. That "ah" haunted him more than any compliment.

He tried to impress you. He failed. He tried to flirt. You didn't notice. He tried to make you jealous. But you were kind to everyone. It wasn't cruel indifference. It was something worse: peace.

And for the first time, he felt invisible.

He didn't desire you at first because of your sweetness. He desired you because you didn't need him. And that was breaking him.

One night, he tried to kiss you.

You didn't pull away abruptly. You just placed your hand on his chest. "No." Not like that.

That "no" wasn't a physical boundary. It was a mirror.

After that, everything started to fall apart.

The parties stopped being fulfilling. Women stopped mattering. His reflection in the mirror no longer convinced him. For the first time, his ego couldn't sustain him. And he didn't know what to do with the emptiness.

He drank.

He drank as if it could numb his wounded pride, as if alcohol could bring back the version of himself he never wanted. But all it did was push him to do what he'd always avoided: chase after someone without restraint.

He found you in the early hours of the morning.

He was barefoot, disheveled, his shirt buttoned askew. He knocked on your door like someone unsure if he deserved to be let in. When you appeared, surprised, he didn't even try to smile.