He was a punk - He wrote poetry

Owl And Raven

Simon looked just as confused as Finn did.

Finn just stared at the boy for a solid minute, before he managed to cock his head to the side and quirk a brow.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Why're you here already? Sunset only starts in a few hours, Simon", he scolded softly.

Walking over to the older boy, he leaned against the railing next to him, like he'd done yesterday.

Finn had missed this. It had only been a few hours but now that he was here again, in Simon's presence, he felt at ease.

Breathing was a bit easier than it had been only minutes ago.

He was out of his cage.

Simon followed his movements with his eyes, observant as always.

"I thought I'd get a good look at everything before darkness falls. I'm not sure if the sunset will be very pretty tonight," he responded nonchalantly, playing along.

Finn smiled, his gaze flitting over to the restless waves.

Again, curiosity gnawed at his mind, wanting to figure out why Simon was here this early. Why he wasn't in school.

He felt like he could ask. He'd asked way more personal questions yesterday.

"You don't have a school to be at?", he mused, keeping his voice low.

He'd noticed that Simon seemed to like it, when his voice was a bit more quiet and level.

The older boy shrugged, gaze fixed on the sea, rain clouds mirrored in his glasses.

"I got suspended. The kid I fought against yesterday... apparently he needed stitches."

Finn's brows shot up. Stitches. The guy had needed stitches.

"You got him pretty bad then?"

"I bit his arm."

Finn couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him, eyebrows still raised.

"You bit a guy's arm so hard he needed stitches? That's... a fun story. And you got suspended for that?"

Simon nodded.

"Until next Monday. And I have to write an apology letter."

Finn scoffed.

"Bullshit. Going from what you told me, he deserved it. You gonna write it?"

Simon sighed a bit, a strange haze glazing over his eyes for a split moment. It was an emotion Finn couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Yeah. I kinda owe that to one of my teachers. He kind of stands up for me whenever stuff like that happens."

So he was the racket type. Who would've thought? Finn certainly hadn't.

To him, Simon had seemed like the perfect model student. A play-by-the-rules kid.

"You get into fights often, then?"

"Frequently."

He remained quiet for a moment before muttering softly.

"I'm not doing it on purpose."

It was a sad little sentence.

Finn had his fair share of temper himself, he knew exactly how it felt to loose his cool sometimes. To be unable to control his own emotions, let alone actions.

Having it 'frequently' as Simon described, sounded like hell.

Silence fell.

Finn's fingers began to twitch. Picking at his cubicles.