P R O L O G U E

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DUSK

We met at the wrong place and at the wrong time. And yet all I could think about was how right it had felt.

I remember tear stains on cheeks and raindrops on the windshield; cold fingers on dirty skin and stolen glances at red lights. I remember the tear in his jeans and the heartbroken expression on his face. His face, glazed in the pale golden light of fluorescent street lamps, terrifyingly familiar.

I remember him being there, and then being there again, and being unable to explain it. I remember it like he had always been there.

I remember the lateness of the hour and the overwhelming silence as we turned from dark back roads onto more back roads. He only ever took the back roads. He only ever drove at night.

He only ever looked at me when we were parked somewhere because we were probably parked somewhere we shouldn't have been. But Simon never cared. Simon didn't seem to care about anything.

Except I knew that he did. He cared about a lot of things.

We met at the wrong place and at the wrong time. But who's to say that two wrongs can't make a right?

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[ A/n: So... This is gonna be interesting. ;) ]

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