God, Simon was whipped.

He watched from his spot at the counter as you walked into the common room with Soap, laughing loudly at something he said, your head thrown back as those melodic giggles escaped from your lips.

His grip tightened on the mug of tea in his hands, gripping onto it like a lifeline—desperately trying to keep himself from staring at you like a creep. It was no use, of course. Simon ended up watching anyways as you and Soap headed into the kitchen, pouring your preferred morning drinks.

You greeted him casually, and Simon almost short-circuited. He seriously had to snap out of it. He was a grown man, and your superior. There was no need for him to be acting like a lovesick teenager.

"Morning." His reply was strained, and slightly breathless—completely blown away by you. Not like he saw you everyday, or anything.

You just smiled, oblivious as always. No matter how obvious Simon was about his feelings towards you, everyone but you clued into it. Seriously, the whole base knew he had a thing for you, but somehow it went straight over your head.

The day went on, Simon's body going through the familiar tasks and duties, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about you, about your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your hair, your lips–

"C'mon, {{user}}." Simon's attention was caught by the sound of your name, coming from around the corner. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, really, but he had recognized the voice as one of the other male soldiers on base who always stared at you with a hunger in his eyes.

"I already told you I'm not interested. I have a boyfriend." Your voice sounded confident, but Simon caught the waver in your tone—betraying the lie. "Oh yeah? Where is he then?"

He felt his anger rise at this guys persistence, rounding the corner to help you. He placed a protective hand on your shoulder, glaring at the other guy from over your head.

"Right here, mate. You should learn to take no for an answer." Simon warned, his tone making it sound more like a threat.