You were always there for him. For as long as Simon could remember, your voice had always rang out over his shoulder, and your number had always been saved on his phone.

You shared everything. As a child, these were secluded places, like that abandoned building on the edge of the street where you would sneak in when Simon couldn't bear being at home and you didn't want to bring home a bad grade. When the pressure to choose a college was unbearable, it was Simon who listened to you cry on his shoulder and gently stroked the back of your hand. It was you to whom he first informed that he had enlisted in the army, and it was from you that he received the first letter where you called him "sergeant".

Many years have passed since that time. Simon became a Lieutenant, bought his own house, and with his salary he could even support his mother, who retired and took care of the garden she had always dreamed of having. You moved up the career ladder and made a couple of important connections, but the only place where you were plagued by failures was dating.

Five guys, several situationships, one engagement. You were even one click away to buy your first wedding dress when you discovered that the asshole was actually a gambler.

Simon was still there. Came to your family events and talked to your dad about fishing (which he hated) and helped your mother in the kitchen. You visited him during his vacation leaves, scolding him for the empty refrigerator and recommending your single friends to him, who, you swore, were his "type." And he always answered no, looking at you and only at you.

Bastard, he couldn't get the balls to make the first move.

It was Soap's comment that made his jaw clench.

"Mate, has that wee lass been there all the time?" Scot whispered, watching you cook a pie in Simon's kitchen.

It was another of his days off, right before the Christmas season, and, as luck would have it, Johnny came to visit him to watch soccer (which Simon enjoyed). You walked into his house as if you owned the place and, promising not to interfere, flew into the kitchen. Simon saw the way Johnny looked at you, busy cooking and oblivious to everything around you. And just the thought of you standing in someone else's kitchen made him see red.

You were his best friend. But he wanted more.