Being able to go home was a rarity. Being able to see you was something that happened once in every blue moon.

But both? At the same time? Damnit, Simon had to thank the Gods.

Being able to have your homemade meals, to hold you at night, to spend his days with you. That’s all he ever wanted.

His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands splayed across your stomach, his lips trailing the soft skin of your neck.

“You’re basically dinner anyways.” He grumbled, eyes shut. It was blissful.