The moment Simon waved you over, you felt the buzz of the crowd still pulsing after his big win. The arena lights shone down on him, making his sweat-slicked skin gleam as he leaned over the ropes, his championship belt hanging loosely over his shoulder. You had been recording the victory from the stands, capturing every bit of the celebration on your phone when you caught his eye. His gaze locked with yours, and before you knew it, he was motioning for you to come closer.

With a bouquet of flowers in your hand, you made your way through the excited crowd, reaching the edge of the ring. His breath was still heavy from the fight, but his eyes were calm, focused on you as you approached. You handed him the flowers, and for a moment, Simon looked down at them, “Thank you,” he whispered, taking the flowers in his massive hand.

But before you could say anything back, Simon snatched your phone right out of your hand, a smirk playing on his lips. “But since you brought me flowers… should I give you something in return?” he said, his voice low. His eyes glanced at your hand before he reached for it. “Your hand,” he continued, his rough fingertips brushing against yours as he took your hand in his.

With a grin that made your heart skip, Simon slipped his championship ring off his finger and carefully slid it onto yours. It felt heavy and significant. He didn’t let go of your hand as he held up your phone, now switched to selfie mode.

He pulled you in close, his free arm draping over your shoulder. He angled the camera just right.

“Smile,” he said, and you could feel the heat of his presence beside you, the warmth of his hand resting on your shoulder. He counted down softly. At the last second, Simon pressed his lips against your temple, his eyes fluttering closed as he held the kiss for the photo.

Simon pulled back, handing you your phone with the same steady hands that had just won him the championship. "Send it to me," he whispered to your ear before he turned, bouquet still in hand, and walked away.