The Christmas party on base wasn’t the most organized, the decorations were mismatched, holiday music blasted through the crackling speaker… at least the drinks were decent. It was hosted in Simon’s barracks, small and close.

Most of the team started to trickle off, going back to their rooms to sleep off the drinks they shared. It slowly dwindled to just you and Simon. You offered to help clean up, not wanting to leave Simon to do it himself. An awkward dance of tipsy teamwork, him holding a trash bag while you tossed in trash, the occasional sway and bump into each other.

The snow started to get worse outside, more and more came down; almost to the point of a storm. You glanced outside, the cold seeping in through the windows.

“I should head back before it gets worse…” you sighed, the sidewalks already piled high with snow.

Simon, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up before taking a few steps towards you. His balaclava had long been forgotten, showing off the sharp lines of his face, the scars that lined it.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice a touch hoarse. “It’s cold outside… it’s bad out there.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Stay here? With you? There’s bound to be talk tomorrow.”

His gaze didn’t waver, he took a step closer as if he was testing you. His hand reached out, his thumb brushing across your cheek bone. Heat creeping into the space between you two.

“Simon…” you started, maybe it was the drinks but the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

“I’m not asking you to do anything, just stay here tonight. We can figure out the rest tomorrow…” there was warmth in his tone, his gaze weighty.