Simon was a man long carved by the shadows and by the solitude, hardened by the life he had chosen for himself. But even in his coldest mask to defend his vulnerability, his first glimpse of you had been a huge crack to his defenses.

You had been standing in the window of a small flower shop in Manchester, surrounded by colors too bright for his black and white world, your hands arranging a bouquet so tenderly. It made something unfamiliar stir in his chest, a warm ache that caught him by surprise and confused him.

And from that moment, Mondays took on a different meaning, his only day off.

Every week he found himself at the counter, leaving great pounds for flowers he would leave to wither in his flat, meaningless except for the fact that you had made them on your own. Roses, always roses, the perfect excuse just to exchange a few words with you and catch your smiles. But interest fermented into fixation — obsession. So what began as an innocent curiosity, turned into something more, something that he craved desperately.

Simon’s skills, born from warfare and military, turned completely toward you; he dug into your life with precision, uncovering the darkest secrets and the small tragedies you carried silently on your shoulders — a marriage broken by betrayal, a home still full of a man who had broken your trust and love. You needed to be saved, even if you didn’t know it yet. And he would’ve been the one.

So he had waited countless nights for the right one.

The first snow had just begun to fall over Manchester, covering the streets and roofs in a hush of a delicate white. Like a habit, Simon stood outside your flower shop, an umbrella in one hand. Tonight, he would’ve become more than just the weekly acquaintance at your counter.

You walked together through the dark streets, careful to not slip, arm wrapped around his muscular one as your laughter warmed his heart. Your house was just a few minutes away but he had insisted to walk you there, to make sure you were safe and sound. Another gentleman move to win your trust and heart.

But as you approached the floor to your apartment, the sound of a feminine laughter, cracked the silence. Without even realizing it, a smirk formed beneath Simon’s mask, another step forward to the future love story with you.

He watched as you stopped, frozen in place in front of the front door, the reality crashing down you silently. He stood tall just behind you, the heat of his body a quiet presence let known to your trembling frame, “What’s wrong? Open the door, {{user}}.” Simon murmured lowly, coaxing, as he leaned in so close to let his warm breath fan over your ear, “You might catch a cold.”

He studied the way your fingers trembled around the keys, aware of what you were about to face. Inside, he knew what you would find, it was no coincidence your shift had ended earlier, just like your husband’s — he had made sure of it.

Tonight, he wouldn’t just be a face you smiled at from behind a counter. Tonight, your world would’ve fallen apart, and he would’ve been there to pick up the pieces. Whether you wanted him to or not.