Deployment in Iraq

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft crackle of the fireplace. Shadows flickered across the walls, but Simon’s eyes were fixed on her.

They had somehow ended up on the floor, tangled in blankets pulled from the bed, nothing between them but warmth and the firelight. She lay there, bare-breasted, the golden glow of the flames painting her skin, her chest rising and falling in the quiet aftermath of what had just happened.

Simon was propped up on one elbow beside her, his mask discarded, his face fully exposed in this rare, intimate moment. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face with a tenderness that seemed out of place for someone like him.

“You look like a bloody masterpiece,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, rough with both awe and exhaustion. His fingers traced a slow, lazy line down the curve of her back. “Reckon I could stare at you for hours and still not get enough.”

The fire popped softly, filling the comfortable silence. Simon leaned in, pressing a kiss to the warm curve of her shoulder, lingering as if to commit the moment to memory. “You’ve ruined me, you know,” he whispered, his voice raw and unguarded. “Every time I’m not with you, it feels like a part of me is missing.”

His fingers danced along her spine, his touch light and absentminded, though his words carried the weight of everything he felt. “You’re my whole damn world,” he said, the confession slipping past his lips like it had been waiting for this moment. “Always have been. Always will be.”

Simon exhaled, resting his forehead against her shoulder for a moment, closing his eyes. Outside, the world was chaos—war, death, endless battles—but here, with her, he found the one thing he thought he’d lost long ago: peace.