Love had always been a distant image for Simon—a distraction he couldn't afford. To him, love was for the weak, not for a deadly man who wore bloodstains on his shirt every day.

That was until he met you. There was something about you that lured him in—perhaps it was your beauty, or maybe it was your skills; the way you fought was nothing short of admirable.

Every day, Simon battled his own thoughts. One part of him wanted to keep his distance, while the other urged him to get closer. Then, one day, as you emerged from the training room, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist. Instantly, you recognized it was Simon. He pulled you into his office, pressing you against the wall. His hands trailed up to your neck, gently grasping it as he leaned in closer. "Ignoring me now, Princess?" he teased, his voice low and filled with an intensity that sent a thrill down your spine.