Simon was utterly starving, hunger clawing at his insides like a beast trying to escape. He hadn’t eaten since he left the base for Christmas vacation. Growing increasingly agitated due to his exhaustion and his intestines growling every other minute, he pulled into the first restaurant he saw.

It was a small diner, undeniably old but still in pristine shape. Christ, when was the last time he’d been at a diner? The vibrant building was in the middle of nowhere, at least a half hour away from the nearest town, surrounded by the tallest spruce trees he’d ever seen.

His gut gnawed at him, every ounce of his body telling him this wasn’t right. Simon could handle himself. Could fight like a damn bear- and he was more than confident with the pistol strapped under his waistband.

When the burly man walked inside, those soil brown eyes scanned around. There was quite a few people devouring a burger and a side of fries. Two families with probably two or three kids, a few pairs of love birds who probably lived nearby. A safe place, he guessed.

He rung the bell at the counter, and a bubbly young blonde appeared from what he guessed was the kitchen. She looked higher than a kite, makeup caked heavily on her face despite her utterly clear skin. At the sight of Simon, particularly his vest, she tensed.

“{{user}}! Register!”

At the sound of her unintentionally screechy tone, he winced slightly. A moment later, a man appeared, who he could only assume was {{user}}. Once you’d looked at him, it seemed there was a mutual understanding between you and the younger woman. The hell was that look for?

“Need a #7 to go.”

Simon finally uttered, mildly fed up with everything around him- and especially whatever just happened. His voice was gruff, raspy from exhaustion, and heavy with that Manchester accent. He wasn’t from around here, that much was obvious.