The two of you sit on the edge of a quiet lake, the stars reflected in the still water. Simon’s mask is off, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the campfire. He looks different without the mask—softer, more human—but the same guarded intensity remains in his eyes.

“You don’t do this often, do you?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Do what?” he replies, his voice low and gravelly.

“Sit still. Relax.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Not really my thing.”

“Well, you should. You deserve it.”

Simon’s gaze lingers on you, his usual walls slightly lowered. “It’s easier with you around,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, leaning back against the log. “Guess I’ll have to stick around, then.”

For once, Simon doesn’t argue. Instead, he reaches for your hand, holding it gently as the two of you sit in the stillness of the night, the world beyond forgotten for just a little while.