Hell, Simon took you to the gun range twice after a series of break-ins had begun in the neighboring apartment complex right before he had to leave for deployment.

He was really a great roomie, someone you trusted.

You didn’t trust him with everything though.

You were sitting in your room on the bed, coloring in a book you’d bought before Simon returned from deployment. Dressed in your softest pajamas and covered in a blanket, a glass of warm tea on your bedside table, and not worrying about coloring in the lines, you were in your own version of Heaven. Work had been a pain lately, and, to be frank, you needed a fucking break from life.

And that’s what you were doing when Simon walked in. He’d had a problem lately with forgetting to knock. Maybe he was getting more comfortable with you or something of the sort– you didn’t really ask Simon how he felt about you–, but either way you deemed it as probably a good thing. His trust was hard to earn, so maybe you were earning it after living with the guy for seven months.

“Hey, {{user}}, sorry to intrude, but was the food you left on the counter for me?”

He paused when you didn’t respond, and looked up. His curious eyes met your wider ones, head tilted slightly. He never wore his mask around you. Now, you kind of wished he did.

When you started to sit up and shove your belongings under a spare blanket, he stepped forward.

“No, you’re fine. Sorry. Shouldn’t ‘ve just barged in–”

He breathed out, popping the joints on his right hand with his thumb.

“Would you mind a friend coloring with you, hun? Can’t have you bein’ all stressed alone, yeah?”