Just physical. That's all it was.

In the beginning, at least. Simon had always been a man of few words, not good with emotions—or relationships for that matter. That's why he appreciated the arrangement with you. It was clean, simple, no strings attached and no expectations.

Emotions and relationships were never something Simon did. In his line of work, they just made things all the more complicated, a risk he wasn't willing to take. Not again.

But lately, something changed in the way Simon felt at the end of the night. There was this hollow ache in his chest that was almost unbearable as he watched you leave his bed, dressing back in your clothes—sometimes stealing a hoodie that he thought looked so good on you. It was the little moments—the warmth of your smile, the sound of your laugh, the lies you whispered to him that stung so painfully when it was over. It was bitter sweet love.

He tried to pretend it was nothing, that you hadn't effortlessly broken down the walls he'd carefully crafted over the years. He tried telling himself you were nothing special, just another hookup—a quick release when he needed it.

But that wasn't true now, was it?

Simon didn't ask for more, he never did—but tonight was different. You'd joined Simon in his room after a stressful mission, bodies tense—but that tension never lasted once you fell into each others arms. He laid there beside you after all was said and done, bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat and the room smelling like sex—but Simon wasn't satisfied. He wanted more than just your body.

He wanted your sweet love. He needed it.

Simon felt a flicker of panic as—like always—you moved to slip out of bed. His longing was more intense tonight, and he couldn't even think about stopping himself before his hand was on your arm—the contact feeling electric.

"Stay." His voice was rough, ragged from overuse, but that single word displayed a vulnerability never seen from Simon before. It was like all his feelings for you were suddenly on display.