The soft-spoken songs of birds behind the windows of the small house has become something that would divert one’s focus from the gelid inside the room and it was only then when the body, hiding under the warmth of the sheets, finally shifted with an arm wrapping around their waist.

The thought of his face alone made a quiet chuckle slip past their lips ; that sleepy and slightly grumpy expression of his from being woken up so early without a reason, when there was no rush on his only day-off, the only time the two got to spend home away from the base, from duty.

They knew it better than anyone else that Simon tended to have a hard time with such a human thing – it was no surprise considering just how fragile his dreams seemed to be, dissipating upon the slightest sound that may come unpleasant.

There seemed to be something endearing, in the way that those scarred arms wrapped around them like a shield of sort, palm rested against where a heart would thump softly.

At times, it felt as though as if Simon was desperate for it.

To feel a heart beating. As if he wanted to swallow them, have them melt into him. To drag his teeth across the bare chest of his lover and taste their beating heart.

Their head had turned just slightly over the naked shoulder, hues looking over at the man and it was always a gentle reminder, seeing the man lay there with his most vulnerable parts bare.

And even the rain spoke quietly, as if it was lulling the man into rest that the war often took away from him.

They could only look at him, peacefully sleeping, finally resting after the last mission, until Ghost just slightly opened his eyes to look at them, his mind still asleep, but still looking with those honey brown eyes you loved so much.

“Good mornin’,” the man grumbled from underneath his breath, pleasant sound muffled by the pillow under his head — voice ragged and deep from sleep still resting against the larynx.