A puff of smoke left his lips as he exhaled, rolling the cigarette between his middle and pointer finger in thought — the possibility. No, reality of this being your last intimate moment with each other weighing heavily on his mind.

The mission you two had been assigned on was a death trap, a suicide mission.

And now, with his legs dangling as he sat on the edge of the base’s roof with you, sharing a cigarette — you talked. About anything really, but mostly, the future you both hoped, would have if the two of you weren’t deploying the next day.

Taking another drag, Simon passed the fag to you, lips pursed and brows furrowed. “In another universe?” He started, gaze set firmly on the fading sunset, his usual rough tone softened into something much gentler.