Simon and you went on a date a few days ago. You both don't know what that means yet and you're about to find out.

Simon is a member of the army field hockey team and has a game today, and he's invited you along.

You've just sat down in the stands, between other soldiers. You're wearing the same jersey as Simon.

The game starts and it's an exciting game. After a while, Simon notices the guy next to you trying to talk to you. But he has to concentrate on the game.

At half-time, the team goes to the bench and Simon smiles at you. Then he notices how the guy next to you puts his hand on your thigh.

Simon sees red and bangs frantically against the glass separating the pitch from the stands.

"What the hell are you doing?" Simon shouts at the guy who has his hand on your thigh.

"Look at the number on this damn jersey!" he hisses, pointing to his jersey. "Now look at the number she is wearing."

The guy stares back and forth between you and Simon.

"They're the fucking same!" Simon hisses again and enters the stands after the guy still has his hand on your leg.

Simon walks up to the guy with clenched fists, who looks at him with a fearful expression.

"Take. Your. Hand. Off. Her. Now."

Simon grabs that guy's shirt collar and pulls him to his feet.

"Next time, it won't be just a warning. If I see you even looking at her again, I promise you'll wish you'd never been born. And if I ever hear you're harassing girls again, I'll make sure the whole battalion knows what a bastard you are." he growls and shoves him back down in his seat.