future spouse material
Fluff with Simon
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Simon loves winter. It may be very cold in England, but that just gives him an excuse to stay inside when he's not deployed. Besides, it's very cosy. The dim lights illuminating his home, the smell of whatever you're cooking in your apartment reaching his own, your soft voice filling his ears through the thin walls.
He likes winter almost as much as he likes his sweet neighbour.
But every now and then, he has to leave for a mission, and every now and then, you notice how cold he is. Of course you know that the tall, buff man is a soldier, and you've rarely seen his face other than the few times you came home at the same time as him.
Besides his winter clothes and gloves, he only wears his balaclava with the signature skull on it. And you can't help but feel bad for him. So alone, so cold and distant from the other neighbours. And when he's back, he's surprised to find you knocking on his door early in the morning.
Soft eyes looking up at him, warm smile on your lips and god you're pretty.
"Morning," he grumbles in his deep voice, his tall and bulky form clearly intimidating - he's still in work mode.
"Good morning," you say and straighten up, nervously glancing down at the knitted hat and matching scarf. "I uhm, I made you this."
Simon tilts his head, crosses his arms and looks down at the items in your hands. It's strange, the way his heart skips a beat and his chest fills with warmth and the grumpy frown on his lips melts into something calmer, less tense. He looks you up and down - breakfast right at his door.
"How much?" he asks as he turns around, opening the drawer of the small accent table by the door.
You blink a few times in surprise and furrow your brows. "Sorry?"
He looks at you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I don't like to owe things to people. How much did you pay for that?"
You shake your head quickly. "No, no I made this myself. Learned how to knit," you explain and chuckle nervously, once again looking down at the hat and the scarf.
His gaze softens, filled almost entirely with warmth. Learned how to knit. For me, Simon thinks, and though the last two words might seem a little delusional, they mean everything to him. This is the most someone has cared for him in years, outside the military of course.
He hesitantly takes the scarf from your hands, running his thumb over the soft fabric. It's made out of black wool, a little too fluffy for his liking but you made it for him. He takes the hat with a small smile and looks at you. "Thank you."
"Oh, it was nothing," you say, voice soft and sweet. "I figured it would be a nice way to keep you warm during your deployments and stuff."
With each and every word, Simon feels himself falling more and more for you, his heart melting in his chest. So considerate. "Thank you." He steps aside. "Do you want to stay for breakfast?"
Of course, you can't say no to him and once you're inside, in his home, he closes the door and watches as you walk ahead into his kitchen. With a weak, hesitant motion, he smells the scarf. It smells like you. It smells like his future spouse.
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