You and Simon were hybrids—outsiders. Misfits. Freaks. At least, that's what the world called you. Society didn’t see people; it saw mistakes stitched together.

When you were children, you and Simon had been inseparable. You always wore extra clothing to hide your... features, but aside from that, life was good—simple, even. There was laughter, shared secrets, and a sense that maybe the world wasn’t watching too closely yet.

-

Simon was tired. Exhausted. And you were basically his personal blanket—so of course he was going to crash with you tonight. No way in hell was he freezing his ass off alone in his room.

You were a little pissed at him for waking you up—you’d been perfectly wrapped in your blankets, warm and cozy. So when he barged in and ruined that peace, yeah... you were a little grumbly.

But oh, was it worth it. Right now, he was spooning you, his arms snug around your waist, and his wings draped over you like a blanket—only warmer, softer... better.

He stayed for one reason only — you were warm. And he was freezing. Surely- that was the case, right?

So now, you were awake, but still in the mix between sleep paryisis and alive and sentient, you stared at this goregeous man.