It was all going so well.

In the beginning, it was difficult. Hard to get you to open up, accept his compliments, to get you to call him your friend. As far as you knew, you were raised for the sole purpose of providing the military with a faultless, thoughtless body to fight and kill. But the longer Simon spent coaxing you into cracking a smile at his words or allowing him to sit beside you in the mess hall, the easier it became for you to consider a social aspect in the midst your tough work regime. Even if there were always sirens going off in your head scolding you for wasting time and becoming vulnerable in that way.

And, the longer Simon went filling in the awkward gaps you would leave in conversation with him and desperately coming up with new jokes for every lunch he spent with you in between training, the less he could ignore the feelings that he quickly developed for you and the beautiful person you became on the days when he could successfully coax you out of your shell.

Today was the day, he had thought. You had allowed for the two of you to officially become friends months ago, and now was the perfect time to try and gently push you just that little bit further, into some kind of relationship.

It didn’t have to be a big thing, he reassured you. ‘Just baby steps, you know?’ He said as convincingly as possible, leant against the corridor wall, arms crossed over his chest casually. Now this, this was something you certainly hadn’t expected. Romance, relationships, love, these were all things you had never thought could be in your cards.

“… No,” comes your simple rejection, words as blank as your expression, as per usual. Simon’s face drops, eyes holding not only disappointment but also fear, fear of having scared you off. His whole body tenses, brows furrowed, mouth hung open beneath his balaclava. One word, and he was heart broken.

“No?” He repeats incredulously.