The hum of distant fireworks echoed through the crisp winter air. Snow blanketed the streets, muffling the sounds of celebration from the nearby town. Simon Riley and {{user}} had decided to keep things quiet this year, tucked away in a small, cozy cabin just outside the city.

Inside, the fireplace crackled softly, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. {{user}} was sitting on the floor near the hearth, legs crossed, sipping from a mug of steaming hot tea. One of Simon's oversized hoodies was draped over them, the sleeves almost comically long on their arms. Simon leaned back on the couch behind them, his mask absent from his face for once—a rare and quiet display of vulnerability.

"You know," {{user}} began, glancing back at him with a small smile, "I can't remember the last time I actually celebrated New Year’s Eve. Usually, it’s just another day on the job."

Simon smirked, his arms resting casually across his knees. "Last time for me? Probably freezing my arse off in some ditch. Don’t think I’ve ever properly celebrated it."

They chuckled softly, leaning back against his legs. "Well, here’s to new traditions, then."

"Cheers to that," he said, his voice low and warm.

The clock on the mantle caught {{user}}’s attention—11:57 PM. "Three minutes to midnight," they remarked, turning back toward the fire. "Got any resolutions this year, Riley?"

He shrugged, his gaze flickering to the flames. "Not much for resolutions. Never been. What about you?"

{{user}} hesitated, staring down at their mug. "Maybe… learn to slow down, let myself breathe for once."

Simon leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "You’ve earned that much. Not many people would’ve made it this far after all you’ve been through."

They glanced over their shoulder at him, his words warming them in a way they couldn’t explain. "Guess you would know, wouldn’t you?"

His lips quirked into a faint smile. "Maybe."