disguise || simon minter

1.9

i walked into the familiar building and returned to the piano room on wednesday evening, having not spoken to simon for five days.

i looked blankly up at the boy who would inevitably appear in the doorway, his hair parted from running his fingers through it so often, his slim figure covered in black, his hands awkwardly playing with his sleeves as a result of nerves.

when i didn't say anything, simon mumbled, "um, hi."

i rolled my eyes and looked back to the piano in front of me.

"i..i'm sorry."

i looked up, surprised, "yeah."

"but, we're not a thing, madison. we never have been, i don't get why you were so upset." he spoke, his mumbled words breaking my heart, despite knowing they were true.

"i know, simon. but when you kiss me and buy me books and ice cream and read next to me, when you show me a different side of you, i--"

"you shouldn't get close to me. i'll scare you in some way, or make you leave." he cut me off, voice quiet, attempting to mask the pain he was evidently suffering, "i'm no good for you."

"no, you don't scare me, simon minter. you have a soft side, everyone does. no matter how hard you try to hide it, no matter how often you put on a disguise." i spoke softly, his head shaking slightly at my words.

"i don't want to hurt you." he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"then stop pushing me away and sleeping with other girls." i snapped, subsequently mumbling "i'm sorry." once simon's eyes widened at my harsh tone.

"i..i was starting to like you, and i didn't want to, so i...found her. i was drunk and i wanted you, you looked so good, but i knew i couldn't have you." simon mumbled.

"why couldn't you have me?"

"you probably hated me, and i wanted to forget about you."

"yes, i was annoyed at you, but i could never hate you, si." i stood up and extended my arms to simon, allowing him to hesitantly slip his arms around my waist and hug me, his face buried in the crook of my neck.

once again, i felt myself falling for the 'bad boy' with a kind heart, despite how cliché it sounded.

"but, simon," i started as he let go of me, "don't hurt me again."

he nodded, mumbling "i'm sorry." before his familiar smirk returned to his lips as his fingers were laced with mine, softening my heart, as he lead me to his car, yet another happy adventure taking place outside of the confinement of school.

i knew what i was doing was wrong, that i shouldn't trust him and shouldn't give him another chance--i was bound to get hurt again, but for some reason, i didn't care and i was willing to risk it, just to see the other side of him. to see him happy.

a.n. HOW LARGE DOES SIMON LOOK IN THE PHOTO, WITH HIS SMALL ASS HEAD