He was tired, extremely tired. Simon had just gotten back from a rough mission, scars scatter alone his body on his face forearms etc.. he closes the front door with a soft click he effortlessly walks through the house, the soft sound of his combat boots hitting the wooden floors. As soon as he reaches your shared bedroom he slowly creeps in.

He looked down at your sleeping form, gently bringing a hand to your face and gently tracing your features with the tips of his fingers. He was taking in every little detail the soft color of your skin, the few faint freckles that could be seen on your cheeks, the way your hair fell across your face and framed it so effortlessly.