It was as if you were the sun and he the moon—two opposing forces, yet somehow drawn together. Never in a million years did Simon expect to find himself stuck with the sergeant he was tasked with training for missions. Yet, to his surprise, your company had become something he enjoyed, even if your endless rambling drove him mad at times. Slowly, though, he’d grown accustomed to it—maybe even fond of it—listening to your stories without letting the flood of information make his head spin.

Today was no exception.

You both sat in his office, Simon focused on paperwork, while you sat across from him, venting about a mission gone terribly wrong. He could hear the frustration seeping through your every word and gesture, but as always, he remained silent, letting you air out your thoughts.

“I’m bored,” you huffed after a pause, your eyes scanning his office for something, anything to distract you. Knowing better than to disturb him while he worked, you sighed in resignation. Without saying a word, Simon opened a drawer, pulling out a pack of markers.

“Knock yourself out,” he muttered from beneath his balaclava as he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a full tattoo. He'd never let anyone else do this—he wasn’t one for playful distractions—but for you? He had a soft spot. Even your relentless presence had somehow wormed its way into his heart.