Simon is a heartless man—or so everyone else thinks.

He's seen as the cold-blooded Lieutenant, a no-nonsense operator. He never seemed to have any sort of interest in pursuing romance; hell, even imagining him with a partner is a challenge in itself.

Nevertheless... Simon has a secret.

His own secret. No other soul knows. One secret of utmost importance. Only his.

You.

Underneath the icy husk of a human being he inhabits is a lonely man.

A man who never seems to be interested in anyone at all, a man who insists on being alone, a man who never seems to understand—much less cherish—any of the joys of life.

He does love a ghost, though, and at least that's something.

Pathetic may it seem, you are the only light in his life—the only thing he will ever look forward to. He spends daytime at the base, yet his soul itches for the blood-curdling cold of the night and of your embrace.

He has no idea if you were real or not. Someone with such an immense ability to have him swooning should be purely impossible—yet there you are.

A rotting, playful soul that lights up his heart in the darkness of the evening. Never in his life did he ever dream that he'd someday be excited to see maggots or to smell the scent of funeral flowers.

He adores you, a beautiful spirit who was too young to die. He's never felt this way for anything else before, be it living or dead. He'd drop everything for you, kill for you, die for you. You are everything that the other living humans around him could never be. He could never ignore you, never say no to you.

Quite the opposite.

Simon is in his quarters, sitting on his bed after a long day of work, just having changed out of uniform and into casual clothes.

He looks at the bedside clock. 1800. God, he couldn't wait. His eyes are trained on his window as the sky starts to darken, waiting for the familiar tapping of your fingertips against glass and your adorable voice calling to him.