The dim light & the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the kitchen as you sat on a chair studying Simon. He’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed as he thoughtfully holds a mug with black coffee in his hand. He had been distant lately, his mind everywhere else than in the present. You couldn’t blame him though—dating an FBI agent came with its complications, especially when he was in the middle of a case.

“You’re miles away,” you broke the silence, sipping on your tea.

That got his attention. He turned your way, his eyes met yours for a brief second before they turned back to his coffee. “Sorry love,” he muttered. “This case… it’s different.” He paused for a while, his fingers tightening around the mug that threatened to break. He then let out a long exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Serial killer,” he gritted out. “A clever bastard. Leaves nothing behind. No prints, no DNA. Nothing. This one’s smart—too smart. It’s like they’re toying with us.”

Your stomach doubled over, but you kept your face considerate, tilting your head slightly. “Sounds like a tough one.”

Simon huffed out a humorless laugh, his gaze distant. “Understatement. 7 victims so far. Different locations, different methods. It’s like they’re playing a game with no motive, & we’re stuck chasing the shadows.” His hand moved up to run over his face as if to wipe away the frustration. “But i’ll get them. I always do.”

His determination was both admirable &… extremely inconvenient.

You set your mug down, moving closer to him to rest a hand on his arm. “Just be careful, yeah?” Your voice was soft, laced with concern. But inside, your heart raced—not from fear. No. It was from the pure thrill of being the game master. The careful planning, the sleepless nights, the satisfaction of always staying one step ahead.

“I will,” his voice softened as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.”

You responded with a bittersweet smile.

Simon was chasing you, & he didn’t even know it.