Simon was sitting in the bar, drinking whiskey after the mission, tired, silent, looking into the dim screen of the phone when the message from you came.

How do you spend your nights? Are you still watching TV and drinking?

He didn't answer. Just put down the phone and muttered.

“fucking hell...”

Then again.

I want to be in your arms again so badly. Do you think about me at least a little?

That was the last straw. He looked up from the screen, looked at the team. It was not like that.

You and Simon broke up for many reasons. You're young, hot-tempered, too loud. He is a reserved man with a difficult past, always on a platoon. You were different. Too Much. Didn't you come together? No, just living in the different worlds. But that doesn't mean he didn't love you.

And then he was standing at your door. Soaked to the skin, hand on a joint - not letting you slam it

“Come back to me,” he said quietly. “Please”