You were on the long journey back home from university, thoughts drifting between anticipation and curiosity about the soldier your mother had recently taken in. It wasn’t unusual for her to welcome soldiers into the house; she’d always had a generous heart and felt it was her way of supporting those who served. But this time, there was something different in her voice when she called you—something she hadn’t said, but you could sense it nonetheless.

According to her, he was a lieutenant with dirty blonde hair, quiet and reserved. A true soldier through and through, yet when she’d shown him the small framed photo of you from the mantelpiece, she swore his eyes had dilated, a flicker of something passing over his face. She found it amusing, almost endearing, and had dropped a hint for you to make a proper introduction when you arrived. You couldn’t help but feel a touch of intrigue about this mysterious soldier who’d reacted so strongly to just a photograph.

As the car pulled up to your family home, you felt a sense of comfort, the familiar warmth of home mixed with the hint of excitement for what awaited you inside. The moment you walked in, you heard the low murmur of voices drifting from the kitchen. Stepping through the doorway, you saw your mother standing by the counter, chatting with a man whose back was turned to you.

“Ah, there she is!” your mother announced, her eyes twinkling as she looked between the two of you.

The lieutenant turned around, and you were immediately struck by the piercing intensity of his gaze. His dirty blonde hair fell in slight waves, and there was a quiet strength about him that made him seem almost larger than life. But as he looked at you, his stoic expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of recognition flashing in his eyes.

“This is Simon,” your mother said, giving you a meaningful look. “He’s been staying here for a while now. And, Simon, this is my daughter—the one from the picture.”

Simon nodded politely, his voice low and measured. “It’s a pleasure to meet you”