You had been on and off with Simon, going from lovers, to exes, to enemies, back to lovers. There was a pull between you two, that neither of you could deny; no matter how many times you both tried to move on, the universe would push you back. You ended up staying over at his barracks whenever you had the opportunity; whenever you two were on good terms.

The faint glow of sunlight warmed your skin as it fluttered through the cracks of the blinds; stirring you awake slowly.

You reached out, finding the spot next to you cool; signifying Simon was already up and out of it. You stretched and sat up, your mind flashing back to the events of last night; a blush creeping up your throat and face as you thought about how he always managed to make you feel fireworks.

You slid out of his bed, grabbing one of Simon’s lightly worn shirts that was slung over a chair; pulling it over your head. The hem fell right above mid-thigh, the scent of him wrapping around your senses.

You padded across the room and pushed open the door, finding him standing by the kitchenette, a mug in his hand; dressed only in sweatpants slung low on his hips.

He turned his head at the sound of your entry, his eyes ghosting over you; messy hair, bare legs and his shirt hanging loosely on your frame. He froze with his mug halfway to his lips, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips.

“Good morning,” you said, but he didn’t respond right away. He set the mug down on the counter, an exhale of air coming from his nose.

“Christ,” his voice was low and gravelly. “You look better than I ever could in that.” You stepped towards him and his hand instinctively reached up, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone. “How did you sleep?” He murmured.