Certainly, the most amazing thing created on a man must be sweat. Or not, then biceps must be first. Your mind kept replying those thoughts as your eyes remained fixed on the object of your full attention : Simon was in the yard, training with the other knights. But, there was something captivating in the way his sword flew across the air and hit his opponent’s, each single movement making his muscles move like a symphony. The cherry on the cake of this spectacular symphony must have been the sweat, the glistening appearance of his skin as he kept fighting, bare-chested, his opponent clearly struggling to reply with the same strength. It had been minutes, terribly long ones for Simon’s opponents, and the most enjoyable one to the sight for you.

Oh, if only he could train a little longer… But he was already training everyday, on the same yard, at the same time. And every single time, you were watching from a window, spying on his training. That wasn’t so bad, was it? There is nothing illegal in watching a man sweat, watching his movements balanced with an incredible precision. And you were just admiring, nothing more. Actually, Simon should feel flattered to know how admired he is. But for that, he would need to catch you on the act. The sound of Simon’s opponent falling on the floor snapped you back to reality, to Simon’s sword on the floor, and to his eyes fixed on the window, on the one you have been standing to. More specifically, on your figure, and your gaze. Sorry, his eyes fixed on what ?!