Christmas Day was quiet. No crowds. No big gatherings. Just you and the quiet of the living room, the twinkling lights on the small tree, and the only soft sound was the crackling fire.

It was hard this time of year. Simon, your long-time boyfriend; had been away on a mission for the last seven months. He had said he would be home today, so now it was just a waiting game.

The hours passed, you were drowsing off a little, leaned up against the couch listening to the dying fire.

And then the door opened and there he was. Simon Riley. He slung his duffel bag onto the ground, kicking off his snow covered boots and finally sliding off his outer coat.

For a second, neither of you spoke. You stood up and walked over to him and he pulled you into a hug. It was tight and crushing, your head landing perfect against his chest.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured into your hair, voice quiet and low. “Sorry I’m so late, love.”

You both stayed like that for a long moment, he always did this after missions — holding onto you tight for longer than necessary, needing the comfort he had missed.

When you pulled back he gave you a small smile, pulling out small black box. “Got you something.”

That alone made you pause. Simon wasn’t too bad at showing affection but gifts? He always acted like they would self destruct.

It was a plain box. No ribbon. No flourish. Just black cardboard that was slightly scuffed; like it had been carried a long way. “It’s not much,” he quickly added. “I saw it overseas. It made me think of you.”

He handed it to you and encouraged you to open it. Inside was a thin silver chain with a small floral oval locket on the end. The locket was worn, definitely not something brand new.

Simon watched your expression, waiting for your response. “I carried it in my kit for the last stretch. Kept it with me the entire way.”