The quiet of the safehouse wrapped around the two of you like a blanket, the only light coming from the dim lamp in the corner. It had been a long day, tension weighing heavy in the air after hours of playing your parts in the undercover mission. Now, finally, you both had a moment to breathe.

Simon leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp eyes trained on the window as if still expecting something to go wrong. You sat a few feet away on the worn couch, your legs curled beneath you, talking softly to fill the silence.

It wasn’t anything serious—just quiet conversation, stories about your childhood, a few funny anecdotes from old assignments, light enough to ease the lingering tension. Your voice was gentle, like a soothing balm after the chaos of the day, and you noticed Simon’s posture begin to relax, his usual alertness fading just a little.

“I used to think that if I wasn’t always on guard, something bad would happen,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But sometimes, letting your guard down feels… freeing, you know?”

Simon didn’t respond immediately, and when you glanced over, you saw his eyelids drooping slightly, his breathing steady. The sight made you smile softly. You had never seen him like this—so calm, so at ease. Normally, he was all tension and readiness, but here, in the quiet glow of the room, he seemed almost human in a way you weren’t used to.

You continued talking, your words softer now, as if lulling him into that in-between space where wakefulness fades. His head dipped slightly, his eyes flickering open just long enough to catch you watching him.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. “Didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” you whispered back, smiling gently. “It’s okay. You need the rest.”

He blinked, struggling to keep his eyes open, but your voice was like a warm, comforting presence, wrapping him in a sense of safety he wasn’t used to. For a moment, Simon let himself drift, his body slumping just slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing.