He could never picture a life outside the military. He was practically raised in the fire, hardened by the brutality that was his childhood. His life was built on solitude & routines—discipline, rotations, missions & war. & he was completely fine with that. He found peace in the chaos of that life, a purpose. He never thought he needed more.

Until you came along.

You had met him during one of his very rare leaves—the ones his captain practically forced him into. He usually never set foot outside his apartment when he was on leave, it didn’t have the purpose he craved. But fate seemed to drag him to the bar that specific night. & there you had been—a warm, bright thing sitting in a corner booth.

You were everything he wasn’t. Bright, open, & unscarred by the world. & when he mustered up the courage to talk to you, you looked at him like a man. Like Simon. Not just the broken soldier he figured he was.

It all happened so fast. Waiting for your texts, accepting his leaves without a complaint just to see you again. It was scary how badly he wanted you, but for once, he didn’t look at the feeling of want like a weakness. It felt like relief, a breath of fresh air.

He convinced himself he could do both—love you & serve at the same time. He tried so hard & for a while it worked too. He memorised your face, your laughter, the feeling of your hand in his. But for every time he got on that plane, it got harder & harder to leave. Because you hadn’t just become someone he loved—you became his reason.

But the injuries started piling up—bruised ribs, fractured bones, shrapnel getting stuck in his skin. You’d rush to the hospital whenever he’d end up there, hold his hand through the check ups. But you’d also cry—only when you thought he couldn’t hear you. & it honestly wrecked him. Not the pain of his own injuries, but the look in your eyes when you had to kiss yet another scar on his battered body.

So one day, with no ceremony whatsoever, he came home, dropped his gear at your feet & said he was done with it all. Saying the words ‘They can find another soldier, but i won’t ever find another you,’ before he’d wrapped you up in a hug & kissed the top of your head.

It was safe to say you meant more to him than anything else in the world. & six months later, he proposed. No crowds, nothing too big, just you & him. Just like you two liked it. You healed him, piece by broken piece. The nightmares became less intense, & the life he thought he’d never deserve started unfolding in front of him.

Once the wedding day rounded up, he swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful. You looked like something straight out of a dream. He felt like he couldn’t breathe for a second, couldn’t fantom the fact you were about to be his.

Then he couldn’t breathe, literally this time. A sharp sound cracked in the distance, & chaos erupted. People screamed & ran, while Simon was on the ground.

All he felt was the strange warmth seeping through his gut, before he looked down & saw blood. When he looked up again you were already at his side, kneeling beside him with a look of pure horror.

He grabbed your hand & kissed it softly as he grunted in pain, “Baby, don’t get blood on that beautiful dress of yours.”