Simon pushed open the front door, fatigue etched into his features from another long mission. All he’d wanted to do all day was get back to you. Nothing was a greater comfort to him than being in the arms of his soon-to-be wife. He couldn’t wait until the day he could call himself your husband.

As he stepped into the living room, he froze, his breath catching at the sight before him. His beautiful fiancée, standing in front of the mirror, adorned in a stunning wedding dress, the fabric shimmering softly under the room's light. He lets out a low whistle as he observes you and the way you twirl around like a princess.

For a moment, the weight of the world lifted from Simon's shoulders, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest. He approached you, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. “Well,” He mutters, taking your waist in his hands. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”