The soft morning light snuck through the gaps of the blinds, casting a warm lightning across the small apartment, as you barefoot padded your way to the kitchen. 7AM, the usual time you’d find yourself awake after tiring nights, trying to put to sleep your six month old girl.

It was still an old habit from your daughter’s unpredictable sleep patterns.

With a few moments of peace on your side, you had decided to tidy up quietly the mess left from yesterday’s activities: folding the fresh laundry forgotten on the couch, tucking away the dirty bottles, cleaning the kitchen’s counters from the baby formula.

Every now and then, your eyes would drift automatically towards the hallway, expecting somehow to see Simon awake — but he was still resting from his late return.

You had never expected much from the new condo complex, a building where people passed through silently, not even acknowledging the presence of a new neighbor. You had moved in shortly after your daughter was born, seeking a new home and a new start — certainly, you never anticipated companionship, connections. But there he was, the exception that turned began pushing your world again.

Met in passing at first; quick, wordless exchanges across the same floor as he returned from him morning jogs, body clad in a tight shirt, earbuds in and sharp eyes. He lived alone, it was clear. A quiet neighbor that didn’t host people at his place, nor cause disturb with loud music.

It wasn’t until one rainy afternoon, that something sparked; you, struggling with the stroller in the elevator, the baby fussing, the diaper bag slipping from your shoulder, your patience right on the edge. And Simon appeared in the right moment, catching your bag before it fell, handing it back with a small nod and a smile on his lips.

From then on, the encounters became more than accidental between neighbors. Sometimes, you’d find him waiting for the elevator and hold it open for you — other times, you’d cross paths in the lobby and linger for a small conversation. He’d ask about your daughter, and you about his work.

A lieutenant, the duty keeping him away sometimes. And despite his absences, something began to bloom between you.

To the point he had filled the aching void into your chest.

Then came the sound, a soft coo , a sound so sweet that could melt anyone’s heart. As you tiptoed to the slightly ajar bedroom’s door, you peeked through the gap, your eyes widening a tiny bit. There, wrapped in sunlight and morning haze, was Simon. He laid on his side, shirtless, sheets tangled around his hips, looking like a God.

His maskless face was turned toward the bassinet, where the little one’s arms were wriggling out, reaching for him, her eyes wide and sweet as her coos filled the morning silence.

A small, sleepy smile curled on his lips, “Oh.. good morning Commander Drool,” He whispered softly, voice carrying affection. He reached out a hand, fingers brushing gently over her tiny ones, as she let out a squeal in return, “You keep staring at me like that, little lady, and I might just forget I was trained to be anything but yours.”