Maybe if you weren’t naive. Maybe if you had talked to him beforehand nothing would’ve happened.

Loving in the military was rough, but you managed. From the moment you joined the 141, something with Simon just clicked. The two of you could exchange glances and know when something was up. For a man so adept of killing, his gazes always remained so remarkably soft when they were directed towards you. Sure you two had small disagreements every now and then, but you always made up with soft reassurances and tender touches.

So now, after a particularly rough argument, he was sent on a solo recon mission, leaving you to handle yourself. You knew you could take care of yourself just fine, but it still hurt having him leave without you. It still hurt having the guilt of hurting him on your back.

Price had said that he was still able to communicate with the team, so you took it as your chance to apologize. Letters and messages were sent, yet you only got one stray reply, “I’m sorry, but I can’t handle you anymore.” How petty. But damnit, it hurt. Of course it had to be while he was away, he was too scared to do it face to face in case of another argument. But- this didn’t stop you from loving him. You had hope, loyalty, and love.

So now, here you were waiting in the rain for his heli to arrive, dressed in only the military issued fatigues. You knew he’d scold you for waiting for him out in the rain, but that didn’t matter. It would only matter if he said anything to you. It was a few moments after you watched the heli land that you heard his heavy footsteps against the soaked concrete, his gaze meeting yours through that damned mask. “You’re a mess.” He spoke tiredly, his voice gruff and muffled by the patter of rain.