It was well past midnight when the storm rolled in — one of those heavy, angry storms that seemed to shake the entire base with every strike. Rain hit the metal roofs like fists, wind howled against the walls, and thunder cracked so loudly it felt like it crawled under your skin.

Simon was still at the base, caught up with reports he didn’t even need to finish tonight. He’d been dragging his feet, avoiding going home to an empty house. But when the lights flickered for the third time and the storm got even worse, he finally gave up and drove back — tense the entire way, hands tight on the steering wheel each time lightning split the sky.

He hated storms. Not in a childish way, not in a dramatic way — just the way a man who’d spent years in war zones hated sudden noise, chaotic flashes, sounds you couldn’t predict or control.

By the time he made it to the house, the storm was hitting full force. He closed the door behind him, took off his boots, walked through the quiet rooms… but the silence didn’t help. The thunder kept coming, hard and sharp, rattling the windows every few minutes.

He lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. He’d fought men twice his size. He’d walked through gunfire. Yet here he was, heart beating just a little too fast, sleep refusing to come, nerves stretched thin from the storm outside.

After another loud crack shook the house, he exhaled slowly and reached for his phone.

He stared at your name on the screen for a long moment. You were the only person he’d ever call over something like this. The only one he trusted not to laugh. The only one who helped the noise in his head go quiet.

He pressed the call button.

You picked up after the second ring, voice soft and sleepy. “Simon?”

He closed his eyes, tension easing just from hearing you. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice lower than usual. “Sorry. Woke you?”

“A little,” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. He never liked admitting weakness, even to you. “…Can’t sleep,” he finally muttered. “Didn’t want to just… sit here.”