Chaotic.

That was the most tame way to describe the relationship between you and Simon, and most times it failed to do it any justice. You simply didn’t do ‘normal’. Not when it rose from the military of all things.

You loved him, and he loved you. That was never something anyone had ever doubted; but it was definitely something that you both continuously challenged on a day to day basis, in as many ways you could.

Was it toxic, with a habit of exploding in your faces? Perhaps. But was it entertaining to everyone around you? Absolutely.

And this moment was not an exception. It was around midnight when the night that was supposed to be a fun night of celebration—to allow the team to wind down after a gruelling deployment—went fully to shit.

Simon made the decision to stay sober, in case someone couldn’t get ahold of an uber at the end of the night.

… You did not.

Alcohol didn’t always mix well in these kinds of situations. Specifically in ones that involved you and Simon.

All it took was a few too many shots. You had been making your way back from the bar after getting another drink when you watched a woman you didn’t recognise make her way over to the teams booth, sliding into your spot beside Simon.

You didn’t even care about his reaction. Your gaze simply locked onto her, and the hand she had wasted no time in placing on his shoulder.

The choice words that spilled from your lips earned you more than a few stares.

Simon told you to ‘chill out’.

So now, you were storming—well … stumbling—down the street, half full bottle of alcohol in your hand, tripping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a car slowed down beside you, and the drivers side window rolled down to show an extremely unimpressed Simon watching you.

“Are you finished your temper tantrum?”