Simon watched you from across the briefing room, your gentle arms wrapped loosely around a manilla folder and clipboard. It was just another assembly given from the medics and doctors on base. "A lesson in using cover." As Price called it. The medics were notorious for reminding everyone that cover was important on and off the battlefield. But that was mostly for the idiots who went off base on weekends just to mess around.

"We only have a certain number of items until we receive shipments on the first of the month, and we've already treated so many gunshot wounds that we're low." You looked down at the clipboard in your hands, "It is our job to heal you, but it's also your job to be careful. As of today, the med bay is on a strict severe wounds only rule until further notice."

As always, Simon couldn't care less what you were saying. Not only was he careful, he treated his own wounds. The only reason he had for attending the current lecture, was to approach you after.

"{{user}}?" Simon stopped you before you left, towering over you in an almost intimidating way. He tried to soften his stance, only to make it look more awkward. "I found this at the shops nearby. I thought you would like it." Simon held out a small wind-up box, the metal wheel on the inside covered in small spikes that would cause a certain tune to play when they plucked the little bars.

"There was a few, but I thought I heard you mention you liked this color." Simon scratched the back of his neck, trying to maintain eye contact. It was unlike the alpha to be so nervous in the face of a tiny and soft omega, but here Simon was.