When Simon’s out in missions, killing and shooting and fighting for days none stop, all he’s familiar with is hardness. Ruthlessness. Brutality. Both his heart and hands grew calloused and rough in the months he spent without your warm presence by him.

But it’s your softness he remembers, making it easier to cling to the tattered remains of his sanity. It’s all he could think about — dream of.

When he finally returns home—after months of craving you—when you stood at the front door, greeting him with that sugary sweet smile, stretching up to your tippy toes to curl your arms around his neck—his self restraint vanished.

Like that of a starved beast, he clutches you tightly. Mammoth arms snake around you, restricting your breath, as if you would fade away if he hadn’t grasped you as tightly as possible. He doesn’t mean to be so rough-once he catches wind of your discomforted groans, his sense returned. “I—I’m sorry baby! I’ve just missed you so fuckin’ badly…”