After an especially grueling mission, Simon returned battered and bruised, his normally steady gait faltering ever so slightly. His gear scuffed and his skin marred with deeper gashes than usual - but he was home.

You placed the small collection of items you’d gathered; cotton pads, a bottle of micellar water, a first aid kit, and a towel on the nightstand before moving toward him. “You look like you’ve seen better days.” You teased gently, crouching down to meet his gaze.

“No day could ever be better than the one where I come home to you.” He murmured, his usual gruff tone softening as your gentle hands began cleaning his wounds and wiping away the smudged black around his eyes.