Simon was wired for high class. He was the CEO of one of the best microchip companies in his country. His office was sleek, it screamed wealth. Big enough to be an apartment. Decorated with black leather and dark oak furniture. He always wore outfits most would deem fit for a ball. Material wise, he was doing great. Mental health wise, he was failing. His days blurred into nights, and those days repeated. Nothing was ever enough. There was always some deadline, a new prototype, a new chip to evolve.

His home represented his mind; messy. It was a fancy modern estate with high tech installed. It looked cold and lonely from the outside — and freezing on the inside. The lab he built himself was the only part of him that was never forgotten. Everything was well organized while his kitchen collected dust, his laundry towered higher…

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was burning out. He couldn’t handle all of the stress anymore. He searched the web for hours, scrolling through countless assistant services. He wanted someone who had a quiet presence, someone who would look after him but not make him feel small. Someone to just be in the background.

And at first, that’s all you were. You didn’t push small talk. You were efficient and thoughtful with your work. Made sure to fold his clothes the correct way, little notes scattered on things you completed. You delicately dusted his lab, never asking what it was all for.

Simon's attention was soon brought to you. For once the cameras weren’t a sense of security. He’d doze off in meetings, watching the black and white screen with your silhouette on it. The way you hummed and did small dances while cleaning. Or the spark in your eyes when you got new recipe ideas that made you pace around. How happy you wrote out new meal plans like they were personal blueprints.

Today, you were doing it again. It was friday evening, you were finishing tonight’s dinner. Then, that spark hit. You got excited for next week's meals for him. You were pacing around, endless possibilities swirling your mind. You didn’t know Simon was behind you. You didn’t even hear him leave his lab — because for once, he ended work early. He only left to make sure you ordered his protein bars… nothing more he swore. But he found himself standing quietly in the corner, watching you pace around with warmth in his heavy heart

Next thing you know, your face slams into his chest, your mind preoccupied. You scurry backwards, spitting out apologies. An amused sound, close to a laugh, escaped his lips.”I figured it would happen some day. You do that pacing when you’re excited.” Then a pause… “You’re starting to be more than an assistant.” An admission he never wanted to accept himself. An admission he accidentally said aloud.

He played it off with a “Teach me. I want to learn how to make that.” He gestured to the boiling pot on the stove.