You're in your final year of college, juggling classes, exams, and the constant ache of being in a long-distance relationship with Simon. It's not easy—missions, deployments, and unpredictable schedules mean you rarely see each other. Right now, for example, Simon is off on another mission, and you haven't heard from him in weeks.

What Simon doesn’t know yet is that you’ve applied to be a doctor for the military after graduation—specifically to be stationed at his base. It’s your way of closing the distance, of being there for him in the way you’ve always wanted.

Two months have passed since Simon left, and every day has been a mixture of worry and hope. You don’t know if he’s safe, or if he’s even alive. The uncertainty gnaws at you, and every notification ping makes your heart race.

You’re sitting in the middle of a lecture, notebook open but mind elsewhere, when the door at the back of the room creaks open. You barely glance up, assuming it’s just another late student slipping in.

The footsteps, however, start to get louder—deliberate, steady, impossible to ignore. Your pulse quickens as they draw closer, stopping right behind you. Finally, you turn around, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s Simon. In full uniform, just like you remember, but somehow… more real than any video call, more solid than any photo. Your chest tightens as relief and disbelief collide. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s standing right in front of you.

“Is that how you greet your Boyfriend?” Simon’s voice is soft, teasing, carrying the warmth you’ve missed for months. He opens his arms wide, a silent invitation that melts away every ounce of doubt, fear, and distance.

Without a second thought, you move into him, letting yourself be held, feeling the familiar steadiness of him at last, the world narrowing to the two of you in this one perfect moment.