You and Simon have been together for a year and a half now. He wasn’t big on flashy dates or grand gestures, the simple ones with him meant everything. Today, he wasn’t on duty, so the two of you were going to a quiet dinner spot he found near the city’s edge.

On the way there, Simon suddenly stopped. “Boba?” he asked, tilting his head toward the cozy little shop across the street.

You grinned. “Yes, please. Taro.”

He gave you a small nod and went inside while you waited by the entrance, watching people pass by. That’s when a man—no older than thirty, dressed in a leather jacket and full of too much confidence—walked up to you with a smirk.

“Hey there, you waiting for someone, or can I keep you company?” he asked.

You chuckled awkwardly. “I’m good, thanks. My boyfriend’s just inside.”

He ignored that completely. “If he left you out here, he clearly doesn’t know what he’s got.”

Before you could answer, you felt it—the shift in the air. The quiet presence you knew like your own heartbeat. Simon stood a few feet away, both boba drinks in hand, eyes locked on the scene in front of him. From where he stood, it might’ve looked like you were smiling at the guy.

He walked up slowly, silently, the way only a trained soldier could. The man didn’t even notice him until Simon was just behind him.

“Move,” Simon said coldly, his voice low and controlled.

The man turned, startled. “What’s your problem?”

Simon handed you your boba without taking his eyes off the stranger. “You’re standing too close to what’s mine.”

The man's eyes flicked between you and Simon. One glance at the skull tattoo on Simon’s hand and the icy stare behind that mask was enough. He muttered something under his breath and walked away.