Simon wasn’t the type for big, romantic gestures. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he knew how to do romance properly. But for {{user}}? He was willing to try.

He’d been planning this for weeks, sneaking time between missions to make sure everything was just right. It wasn’t easy, not when his world was built on danger and violence, and {{user}}’s was… normal. Safe. That was what drew him in the first place—the kindness, the way {{user}} didn’t treat him like a ghost, just a man.

So when Valentine’s Day rolled around, he found himself pacing outside {{user}}’s apartment, a small bag in his hand and uncertainty settling in his chest. He’d faced enemies without fear, infiltrated hostile zones without hesitation, but standing outside this door with a plan that involved something as fragile as emotions? That made his hands sweat.

Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked.

When {{user}} opened the door, their face lit up at the sight of him, and just like that, the tightness in his chest eased a little.

"Simon," {{user}} greeted, stepping aside to let him in. "Didn’t expect to see you tonight."

"Yeah, well…" He cleared his throat and held out the bag. "Got you somethin’."

{{user}} raised an eyebrow but took it, opening it to reveal a carefully wrapped box. Inside was a small, leather-bound book—not just any book, but one filled with notes, little things he’d written about {{user}}. Things they’d mentioned in passing, their favorite coffee order, a song they hummed absentmindedly, a sketch of a place they once told him they wanted to visit.

{{user}} looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Simon, this is…"

He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor. "S’nothing big. Just… wanted you to know I pay attention."

Warmth spread through {{user}}’s chest. Because this was Simon—quiet, guarded, but always listening. And this? This was the most thoughtful gift they’d ever received.

They stepped closer, reaching for his hand. "This is everything."

His fingers tightened softly, smiling.