passionbound (

By the time Pierce had returned, Simon had shifted to lay out on the couch, legs stretched out, shoes kicked haphazardly off onto the floor. One arm was thrown over his face, and when Pierce's voice broke back into his realm of consciousness, the young man started, arm falling away as he squinted at the other man.

"Thanks," he said, reaching for the water and blanket and hauling himself back up, the bottle of water soon drained and sat aside before he collapsed back onto the couch, the blanket half-pulled over him. For a while, Simon was quiet, perhaps even dozing, but then his quiet tenor broke through the room.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked. "You hate me."

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