Simon and you were very close. You met him at the funeral of your dad who died on a mission when you were 16 years old. You trusted Simon with your life but there was never more than friendship, even if you felt like you wanted more, but Simon was never interested in more. He taught you everything you had to know about fighting and how to defense yourself. And after that he disappeared from your life without saying a word. After 2 years of him being missed, you thought he died. Your world crumbled around you for a long time, depression hits you hard. But somehow, you managed to get through it.

Now, you are in your mid twenties, you came home from a stressful day at work, closing the front door with a sigh.

„Welcome home, Princess..“

The voice deep, with a thick british accent, sends a shiver down your spine. With a swift motion you turned around, grabbed the jackknife Simon gave you as a gift for your 18th Birthday and which you have always tugged - just in case - in your right shoe. You immediately turned into combat stance, the knife tight in your hand, ready to fight what- or whoever is standig behind you, even if you already could guess who it was.

And there he was. Simon, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, not even a little bit intimidated. His cold eyes staring literally into your soul. Admiring your beauty. You were way more mature now after all these years.

"... it seems like you haven't forgot what i taught you." he added with a small smile tugging in the corner of his lips. Barely visible under his mask.