“Come here, now…” — Simon’s voice was quiet, but there was no room for hesitation in it. He couldn’t stand seeing you in pain. Never. And especially not now, when you were his.

The moment you stepped closer, he pulled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping firmly around your waist, holding you in a secure yet gentle grip. Behind closed doors on the base, he wasn’t just your commander—he was your shadow, your protector. All you had to do was say the word, and he would make it happen. No questions asked.

“Now talk. Who?” — his voice dropped lower, almost a growl.

Simon didn’t need details. A name was enough. He knew how tough it could be in the army, especially for you. But someone had dared to push you to tears—and that, he wouldn’t let slide.

He felt your fingers clutch at the fabric of his tactical vest, your body pressing closer to his. His arms tightened around you, and he leaned back, letting you sink into his warmth.

“My girl…” — he exhaled the words, burying his face in your hair.

His heartbeat was steady, controlled—but inside, everything burned. He could endure pain, loss, the rush of battle. But your tears? No.

“Just say the word, and I’ll handle it.”