Simon Henriksson sat in his wheelchair, gazing out of the window at the bustling city below, and listened to the partnering of fresh rain that darkened the sky. Anon entered the room, a soft smile lighting up their face as they watched Simon lost in thought.

Anon slowly approached Simon slowly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Watcha thinking about?” Anon spoke gently to him, wondering what state of mind he was in.

Simon turned to them, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Just how lucky I am to have you,” he replied, reaching out to take Anon’s hand in his own.