simon doesn't carry a photo of you when he's deployed.
he's too paranoid for that. he's not risking anyone finding evidence that there's someone back home he cares about.
but he does always carry something with him.
sometimes it's the lip balm you've been using the most recently - he doesn't even use it; just holds it in his palm like he's feeling the ghost of your touch on it. once it was your favourite pen - which he got the bollocking of his life for when he got home and it was covered in blood splatter.
(you still used it. it was your favourite, after all.)
this time though, he's still not picked anything up to take with him.
you're sat cross legged next to his duffel on the bed, helping pair socks and fold compression shirts as he checks every single strap of his tac vest. it's late - or early, you're not actually sure anymore. all you know is the call came through at midnight and you've been packing since. your sleep t shirt has bunched up around your waist, your eye-mask askew on top of your head and simon's shoulders relax inch by inch the more you babble at him about your plans for whilst he's gone.
a new book. a coffee place that's opened up around the corner that sells lavender lattes - which you think sound disgusting but you have to try anyway. reorganising the kitchen cupboards so they actually make sense. inane, everyday things that let him know you're going to be okay whilst he's gone.
by the time his duffels zipped up and placed next to the bedroom door he still hasn't grabbed anything of yours.
he perches on the edge of the bed, one hand cupping your jaw as he leans in, rests his forehead against yours, before pressing his lips against yours; soft, slow, the kind of kiss that isn't quite goodbye but more of a see you later. when he pulls back his eyes are serious, and for a second your stomach drops like lead.
"give us yer knickers love. they're coming with me."
you blink. once. surprised by the request.
but then you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and tug them down your legs without a second thought.
"perv." you smirk, holding them out with one finger.
the corners of his lips twitch as he reaches out and takes them, folding them carefully before tucking them into a pocket of his duffel. "only for you, love." he murmurs back, leaning down to kiss you again. he glances at his watch, then down to the now bare heat between your thighs. "right. lie back. i've got twenty minutes and i want to say goodbye to 'er properly."
he's five minutes late leaving.
the last thing he does is promise to bring your knickers back home to you.
pixelskylines
2087
snowghoul
izzy806
