The snow outside blanketed the streets in a soft, peaceful white as you adjusted the lights on the Christmas tree, making sure every bulb twinkled just right. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made your heart race, and you hurried to the window. Sure enough, Simon Riley was stepping out, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his broad frame bundled in a thick coat.

By the time he reached the door, you were already pulling it open, your excitement impossible to contain. Simon barely had time to set his bag down before you threw your arms around him. He wrapped you in a tight embrace, the familiar scent of leather and cold air clinging to him.

"Missed me, did you?" he murmured, his voice a warm rumble against your ear.

"You have no idea," you replied, squeezing him tighter.

The evening passed in a cozy blur. Simon helped you finish decorating the tree, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he hung ornaments. He even let you drape a bit of tinsel on his head, his rare laugh filling the room when he caught sight of himself in the reflection of the window.

Later, the two of you curled up on the couch under a thick blanket, mugs of hot cocoa in hand. The fireplace crackled softly, casting a golden glow across the room. Simon looked relaxed, his mask off and his guard down for once.

"This is nice," he admitted, his voice low and content. His hand found yours under the blanket, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles.

"It is," you agreed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

As snow continued to fall outside, Simon pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "Thank you for making this feel like home," he said, his words heavy with meaning.

You smiled, your heart full. "You're home now, Simon. That’s all that matters."