Simon always liked it when his interests were taken into account and even being tried to understand. Don't tell Soap or Gaz about it, they'll laugh at him endlessly.

But here he was, in the middle of the forest. Somewhere nearby, a river was roaring, insects were chirping in the grass, and he was sitting in front of a campfire and stirring the coals, heated to a bright orange color.

Camping. When you suggested it, he didn't quite agree with the idea. Why would he return once again to the atmosphere of sleeping bags and hilly soil when it was warm at home and the bed was big? But you wanted to be in his plate, next to him, and experience what he was experiencing.

And damn, that was the most attractive thing in the world that could be said to him. Therefore, he did not resist.

And when you returned from a small tent, with a smile, carrying out the potatoes that you planned to throw into the coals, he even thought he was asleep.

Oh God, if this is a dream, then I never want to wake up.

He watched you wrap the potatoes in foil and then toss them next to the hot coals. Simon would love to eat your pasta, or, to be honest, anything, just to be with you.

"Ya know, maybe it wasn't sucha bad idea." He said with a sigh.