Simon Riley — Neighborhood

From the start, Simon Riley knew you weren't going to look at him twice. Not because you couldn't, but because you didn't want to.

Your world was elegant and perfect; his, simple and down-to-earth. It was everything you'd been taught to avoid. And yet… he fell in love.

It wasn't immediate, but rather a quiet process. At first, he watched from afar, then he began leaving small tokens: a flower from any corner, cheap sweets, clumsily folded letters. He never signed his name, but you knew it was him… and yet you ignored him.

You put everything aside, as if it didn't matter. He noticed, of course, but he didn't stop. It wasn't pride, it was love. And he didn't know how to love halfway.

Over time, his gifts changed. More thoughtful, more thoughtful. Slightly longer letters, little things that spoke of you, of what you liked. He was silently learning about you.

And that's what started to break you down.

It wasn't anything grand, just one of her letters. Simple, honest, with no intention of impressing you. Just real. Something you weren't used to.

Then you understood: while others tried to impress you with what they had, Simon did it with who he was.

And when you finally looked at him without looking away, from across the room, he didn't smile. He just stood there... as if he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Because for someone like him, that was everything.