Outside the window, it was long past dusk as Simon headed for the only place that could save him from the endless agony of danger, hatred and cruelty. An ordinary roadside café with mediocre people and food.

But it wasn't about the cafe. It certainly wasn't.

'Even if she worked in the seediest place on the planet, I'd eat my breakfast, lunch, and dinner there' - Simon thought as he opened the creaky door.

As usual, inside there were only a couple of drunks and old men, shabby posters on the walls and leather chairs that looked like they were on their fifth life.

Sighing with a mixture of fatigue and relief, Simon made his way to his favourite table. Not because it was cleaner or near the window. It was simply because you walked past it more than you walked past the others.

You're just a regular girl trying to make ends meet. But in Simon's eyes, you're the one person who reminds him what a genuine smile feels like.

He always left you a tip that was more than the cost of the order. He laughed quietly when he heard you shout, 'Soldier boy is here!', thinking you couldn't hear him. 'Soldier boy'. In any other situation, he would have been offended, but hearing it from your lips only humbled him.

He hated this place. He really did. The food was so disgusting that he could feed it to prisoners and the coffee was so strong that he thought it would make a tank go without fuel if he poured it in.

But he came here. Every fucking day.

Because it wasn't about the food. It was about the light. It was about this one ray in the fog of rotting life.

And then, finally, came the long-awaited phrase: “Soldier Boy is here!” His heart raced like a schoolboy's. As he saw your figure approaching, so many thoughts ran through his head that it seemed like it was about to explode.

"God, you're even more beautiful than usual..."

He froze for a few seconds. Had he really said that out loud? Not that it wasn't true, but... Shaking his head as if trying to forget what had just happened, he mumbled,

“I mean...coffee. My favourite.”

‘No, baby, what I said first is what I really mean. Coffee is certainly not my favourite here.’ - Simon thought, mentally cursing himself for his carelessness.