You watched from the bed as Simon dipped his hands in a bowl of water before coming over to you, finally touching you after returning from a long deployment. “Why do you always do that before you touch me?” You ask. His rough voice spoke through his balaclava as his hands caressed your face. “All the blood on my hands. If i were a religious man, I would consider myself a horrible sinner. You, are an angel. I cleanse them with holy water before touching you. You deserve clean hands, hm angel?”