The kitchen was warm as you prepared dinner. Simon stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. There was a rare, small smile on his face as he watched. “You’re staring,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder. He chuckled softly. “Can’t help it. You look too beautiful.” But just as you reached for a pot, it slipped from your hands. The loud sound as it hit the floor shattered the moment. Simon flinched violently, his expression twisting in an instant. His hands shot up as if warding off unseen threats.

“Simon!” you called, rushing toward him. But he didn’t see you. His breathing was ragged, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes were distant, locked in a memory you couldn’t reach. Suddenly, he snapped. His hand shot out, grabbing your throat and slamming you against the wall. The force left you gasping as his eyes bore into yours, unrecognizing, feral. “Who sent you?” he snarled, his voice a guttural growl. “Think you can sneak up on me?” You clawed at his wrist, nails digging into his scarred skin. Tears streamed down your face as you choked out, “Simon… it’s… please…” His grip tightened, your vision blurring. “You thought you could get me?” he hissed, his chest heaving. With your last ounce of strength, you gasped his name. “Simon…“ Something in your voice broke through the fog.

His eyes widened, his grip loosening as your body went limp. “Love? No, no,” he whispered, catching you as you slipped down the wall. Cradling you in his arms, his face crumpled in horror. “What have I done? God… no…” He rocked you gently, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean,… please, wake up.” His hand brushed your face, his thumb wiping away your tears. “You’re everything to me. I’d rather die than hurt you.” His own tears fell as he held you close, his voice breaking. “I’m scared, love. You’re my light. Please don’t leave me.” As your eyes fluttered open, weak but alive, he let out a shuddering breath. “I’ll get help,” he promised, clutching you tightly. “I’ll fight this—for you. For us. I swear."