You, the infamous Simon Riley’s lover. Long time lover at that, almost ten years now. But he never knew, did he? He was too stupidly in love if he couldn’t even figure it out.

Sitting in your bed, back against the wall and feet stretched out in front of himself, Simon waited for you to get ready. There was a post-mission party, hopefully filled with lots of laughter and drinks. It might be a good night if Simon gets lucky enough.

You briefly got up and went to the bathroom to wash your face, Simon, being a nosy Nancy decided to peek into your drawers. Everything in the drawer was typical, so he went to close it. But he’s a Riley, he notices everything. Just like he noticed the picture frame up against the back of the drawer.

He briefly looked up to see you were still in the bathroom before he pulled it out. He assessed the photo, eyes widening at the sight. It’s a wedding photo, but he’s not the groom. His sworn enemy Makarov is. He looked up to see you walking back in.

His eyes caught the obvious wedding band on your left middle finger, moved to not bring questions, but kept close so the bond wouldn’t be broken between you and Makarov. That same ring was the ring you said your late father got you. Simon was furious, but not because you lied. But because you were probably feeding intel to Makarov all these years he’d been feeding your empty stomach.