The only place Simon feels at ease is with her. He nudges the door open, the usual quiet of the flat giving way to the familiar sound of bubblegum snapping. The air is thick with vanilla and strawberry, and the sweetness clings to his tongue in a way that feels almost comforting.

She lounges on the sofa, one leg curled beneath her, the other lazily draped over the edge. In one hand, her phone glows with images of brightly coloured clothes and shoes, while the other thoughtfully twirls a lollipop stick, its vivid pink matching the hue of her extremely long nails. Every so often, she blows a bubble⎯the rosy cloud swelling before it bursts with a soft pop, drawing a quiet, playful giggle from her lips.

The girl spots him standing in the doorway, her entire face lighting up, eyes sparkling like tiny, precious stars. With a soft, sugary gasp⎯ oh⎯ she flings her phone aside. Her delicate hands are already wrapped around his neck, while his palms hungrily trace the curves of her chiselled waist.

The gum snaps again, the sweet scent filling the air between them, confirming Simon's thoughts that the gruelling months of missions are finally behind him.

“I'm back,” his gaze slips to the hot pink top⎯if it can even be called that. It's barely a strip of fabric, stretched tightly over her fake chest. She has never been shy about showing off her figure, and Simon, well, he adores every bit of his bimbo girl.

She slowly rises onto her tiptoes, pressing a sticky, glossy kiss to his rough cheek. From under the lash extensions, her wide, doe-like eyes study him closely.

His lips twitch into a smile. “Miss you too, love.” His thumb brushes the bare skin just above her ribs.

“Mhm… smells like biscuits.” He barely has time to say this as her gentle assault of bubblegum-flavoured kisses doesn't stop. “Strawberry, huh?”

Waiting on the kitchen table is a tray of heart-shaped biscuits, once again half-burnt but decorated with heaps of pink icing and glittery sprinkles. He knows they'll be deadly sweet, tasting of burnt sugar.