“Just to be clear, we’re—” Simon was abruptly cut off by your words, “Friends.”

The memory still fresh in his mind, the same words repeating like a broken record, over and over again. He had learned to not show himself vulnerable to anyone’s eyes, yet, whenever he was with you, it seemed nearly impossible. He kept running to you like a starved man, but now he wanted none of that. You were his sergeant, just as he was your lieutenant.

“Friends, you say?” He murmured, amusement lacing his deep voice while he flexed his wrist slowly, eyes boring into yours. There you were, standing in his office, all over again, craving for him just as he craved for you. He wasn’t going to let it slide easily, though.

Standing full to his height, he towered over you, a gloved hand wrapping around your throat gently, a delicacy that sent shivers down your spine. “As far as I know friends don’t know the way you taste.” A small reminder to what you two used to share, almost every night, in his quarters.