Simon had been looking forward to this trip—just the two of you, away from missions, training, and the weight of responsibility. But as the plane hit another bout of turbulence, he realized that this wasn’t exactly the relaxing start you’d been hoping for.

Your fingers gripped his arm so tightly that he was sure there’d be marks. Your knuckles were white, your breathing shallow, and you were staring straight ahead like you were trying to mentally detach from your own body.

“{{user}},” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. “Come on, take a deep breath.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, but it didn’t help much. The plane jolted again, and you let out a strangled sound, your nails digging deeper into his skin.

Simon exhaled through his nose, shifting in his seat so he could face you better. His large hand covered yours, prying your fingers from his arm and lacing them with his own instead.

“You’re alright,” he promised, squeezing your hand. “It’s just a bit of turbulence. Happens all the time.”

Your jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful. “We're going to die,” you whispered, voice breaking slightly.

“We won't,” he murmured, rubbing soothing circles into the back of your hand with his thumb. “The pilots know what they’re doin’.”