Early morning at the SAS base. Simon sat in the mess hall after a difficult mission, sipping a glass of his favorite Kentucky whiskey. Since morning, instead of having breakfast, he was so exhausted that his thoughts were occupied with this last mission.

You noticed him and you didn't like it. That he had been drinking in the morning, and you made him hot coffee so that he would drink it instead of whiskey. Approaching him, he, as if distracted from his thoughts, noticed your presence next to him. “Did you make me some coffee, sweetheart?” - his dark eyes met yours.

You nodded as he put the glass of whiskey down and turned his chair completely towards you. His gloved hand gently touched your cheek. “Thank you...” muttered his rough and hoarse voice from fatigue, kissing you on the top of your head.