You and Simon had been dating for two years, and every weekend you’d drive up to the military base to spend time with him. It was a routine you both cherished, a way to bring a bit of warmth and normalcy into Simon’s structured, intense world.

Being the playful, whimsical partner you were, you’d brought along a collection of pastel-colored plushies—mostly unicorns and llamas—to keep him company whenever you left. Each time, you’d leave one or two on his bed, laughing at the idea of these colorful creatures guarding a hardened soldier’s quarters. Simon pretended to be annoyed, rolling his eyes at each new addition, but you sensed a part of him found it endearing (even if he’d never admit it).

Back at base, however, things weren’t so simple. The sight of his bed strewn with pastel unicorns and llamas had not gone unnoticed by his fellow soldiers, who made relentless jokes about it. Simon had tried to ignore them, but his patience only went so far. When no one was around, he’d let out his frustration by “toughening up” a few of the plushies, punching them until their stuffing practically squeaked.

One evening, after you’d left the base and returned home, Simon couldn’t resist texting you about the state of his bed and the latest “attack” of your plushie army.

Simon: “You left another unicorn. Pastel pink this time. My bed looks like a bloody candy store, love.”

Simon: “And don’t think I didn’t notice the llama hiding under my pillow. Almost punched the stuffing out of it when the lads started laughing.”

Simon: “If I get teased one more time, I swear I’ll bring the lot of them to target practice.”

Simon: ”…You better not be laughing at this.”