You and Simon were like two pieces of a puzzle, perfect for each other. The most ideal mornings with him, the most vivid memories, the most beautiful, sincere emotions. You always had a bunch of pictures of the two of you shining like bright stars.

Now, when you looked at those pictures, you envied that couple. You couldn't believe your eyes that this was once real.

He stopped looking at you with eyes full of love. He stopped bringing you little gifts every time he came back from a mission. He stopped making tea for you when he was making it for himself. He stopped taking pictures of you in your sleep and then embarrassing you with them.

It's all just small things, isn't it? Maybe. But it was the small things that made up your life. Your life together.

The soft sound of the key turning in the keyhole echoed through the quiet, dark apartment. He entered the house without a word. Silence. The fucking silence that had been deafening you for the past few months.

You sat in the kitchen, staring at the wall, drinking tea. You no longer had that storm of emotions and thoughts inside you. It was the same silence now.

The tea you had made for him had long since gone cold. Too long ago. Even before you made it.

Simon walked quietly into the kitchen and nodded in your direction. A simple nod. Not a damn word.

You did the same. What was the point of trying again?

But a few seconds later your voice rang out. Not that you wanted to ask. Never. You were always afraid of the answer. But a soft whisper slipped from your lips faster than you realized.

"It's over?"

You saw him freeze for a second. His muscles tense. Your breath caught. You were prepared for the worst. What's he going to say? Yes? No? Lie that everything was fine?

But there was no answer. No fucking answer at all. He just walked out of the room. Everything went back to the way it was.

Silence. Again.