simon watching you sleep. he tightens his combat vest, clicking the straps into place. all extra 100 lbs of material, glowsticks, medical equipment and ammo, already put into their appropriate place on his body.
it's 3AM. he woke up hours earlier to a call from captain john price, alerting him to be on base by 0500. simon knows what that means, painfully so.
he slipped out of bed, as quiet as someone with size could be. untangled his limbs from yours, left the warmth of your shared bed, and got ready in silence. he showered, brushed his teeth, didn't bother to shave because he didn't see the point in keeping up appearance when he wouldn't be seeing you any time soon.
he put on his fatigues. his singular kneepad for his weak leg. tucked his handgun in his waistband. admist all the ruckus and drawers being opened and closed, you didn't fuss one bit. you've always been a deep sleeper, it used to be annoying to him, a little inconveniencing at times, but now he's grateful.
he could leave. save you the trouble of stressing over his abrupt leave, write you up a long letter about how he'd rather be shot in the balls than see you cry over him. you don't like his job. you know he's only a soldier of the sas, and thats that. he'll never tell you anything more than the country name's he's being sent.
his duffel bag is full and heavy. awaiting for him to swing it over his shoulder and leave. you won't know. you'll sleep another good night—maybe a bit colder than you'd like—but you'll still wake up at 12 in the evening expecting simon to be there.
he should be a good boyfriend, and let you do that.
simon inhales sharply. his eyes watching the way your chest slowly rises and falls. the calmness of your features. even in your sleep, your hands twitch for his touch.
he feels a sting in his chest. unfamiliar and uncomfortable. his legs feel a magnetic force drawning him to you, and for once, simon loses himself to his wants.
you wake up to pressure. a heaviness over your body. something is looming over you. at both sides of your head do you feel the mattress dip under weight. a leg draws over yours, caging you in. still fresh from being awoken, that sweet lingering of the edge of sleep entices you and you whine from being disturbed, trying to curl yourself away from the object of distraction.
simon lightly huffs, the corner of his lips twitching from amusement. you're just like a cat, attempting to hide your face away in your paws.
simon leans down to his elbows, caging in your head. he thinks this is all he should do. let you fall back and asleep and be okay with just the closeup of your beautiful features, but simon is too unsatisfied. his dissatisfaction is only fueled by the heavy nausea of impending doom.
his head looms over yours. he lets his lips caress lightly over the softness of your cheek, feeling your peach fuzz. he presses, with the smallest amount of pressure. he lets the kiss linger before he's detaching with a subtle regret for more.
just as he's about to back off of you entirely, do you suddenly move your head towards him, eyes fluttering open. your eyes lock onto him, or try to. it's too dark, but you could always make out the features of your simon. and the fatigues.
your eyebrows twitch, nose beginning to scrunch up in what looks like pain to simon.
he tries to coo at you, bringing a ungloved palm to cup your cheek. "you're leaving?" you whisper, sadness evident within your tone. he can feel your hands climb up his sleeves before settling on clutching onto the straps on his shoulders. trying to keep him there.
simon only sighs, blowing air against your face. he nods, quietly, to which you respond with a shaky "but you just came back," that nearly shatters simon. you sound so scared, so weak and tiny.
simon doesn't say anything. he doesn't think he can, lest the sharp tightness within his throat and the lack of air in his lungs. he kisses you instead with innocent chaste. a simple kiss, one for the road.
again, he pulls away, or tries to. but your hands on the straps of his shoulders keep him against you, pulling him back down to you. his lips press against yours, a little firmer than the last. he refuses to give you more than that, but he lets you move your lips against his.
his heart beats wildly in his chest. your legs locking around his hips. the kiss turns into a third kiss, then another, and another and then simon succumbs to your tongue pressing against his lips, allowing you entry. he doesn't mean to, but his hips begin to rock against your own on instinct.
you breath hastily into the kiss as does he. it's lost it's original meaning of chaste and has transformed into something more passionate and desperate. the straps on his shoulders feel too tight now as you keep pulling him fruitlessly tighter against you. it hurts, you bite at his lips, greedily drawing out his blood and swallowing down his pained whimper.
but simon has a mission. you know who he is, so he detaches from you with a breathless gasp, desparingly trying to untangle your limbs from his. he overpowers you, as always, but simon is weak to you even when he looks and feels strong.
from the loss of his chest against yours do you begin to sniffle and cry, your fingers are still embedded in his straps and simon feels overwhelming regret when he's forced to pinch your fingers to get you unlatched from him. he feels your hiccups in his soul and simon's face is one of clear distress. he needs more, he doesn't really want to leave, but he has to.
on a whim, his hands slide under your thighs, doing the opposite of what he's been trying to do for the past minute. he's picking you up, holding you close to his body. he cradles your head into his shoulder, one of his arms supporting your ass as his other tries to rub your back and comfort you, your legs hiked up around his waist.
he holds you like that for awhile. your sobs cease, calmed down by his gentle shushing. as he holds you like you're his baby, do you begin to feel your body surrender back into the abyss of sleep. your tears dry, being soaked up into simon's dark camo jacket. his forehead rests against your crown, nose buried into your hair as he greedily takes the opportunity to savor your scent.
but all good things come to an end. you don't fuss when he's gently lowering you back down to the mattress, laying you over his side of the bed. he kisses your forehead and temple, tucking the blankets into your chin and your chest.
he nuzzles himself against you, delivering one last bittersweet kiss on your nose before he's leaving you alone in the darkness of your room, unable to take a final glance at you or he'll truly become mia.
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