Your birthday wasn’t something you ever celebrated.

A day no different to any other — nothing special, not something worth mentioning. As it was only a reminder that another year passed, that you were growing older.

In truth, Simon shared that sentiment. For he, himself, due to his family life, never really acknowledged his own day of birth; associating the date with tragedy.

Although, times have changed. And while you still considered the day as one that held little importance — a small, intimate celebration took place between you each year.

This year when your birthday rolled around, the two of you were stuck at base due to some unforeseen circumstances.

With the squad’s remote location, any kind of stores were hard to come by, but Simon made do with what he was given.

And as the clock hit midnight; a large hand cradled the back of your head as a chaste kiss was pressed to your forehead, lips pulled into the tiniest of smiles — soft and tender, an affectionate gesture reserved for moments such as these.

“Happy birthday, love.” Simon murmured, his gruff voice gentle as his hands shifted to engulf yours.

Moonlight poured into your room at the barracks through your window, stars dancing in the dark sky outside, creating a calm atmosphere as a small, carefully chosen present rested on your bed.

The small gift bag that sat on top of the sheets held two items inside; one being something he found during a search in the limited stores around. The other, one of his tactical knives, sleek and pristine, one he noticed you eyeing during time spent in his room.

It wasn’t much, no — nothing extravagant, nor costly, but he hoped it would suffice.