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Another Valentine’s Day alone… You can do this. With a boyfriend like yours, lord knows you’ve suffered through worse heartaches.
To his credit, Simon let you know that he cut his return flight home as close to the date itself as he could, even if he’ll be a couple days late. That, in its own way, is enough; you’ve been with him long enough to know that things like holidays and special dates aren’t his strong suit, but to your satisfaction, he’s always made the effort for your sake.
He knows that the little things in life do wonders for your heart—waking up to find he’s already made breakfast, or decorating the Christmas tree together each year.
And likewise, you know what makes him melt—massaging the nape of his neck when you kiss him… The way your face naturally lights up every time he walks through that door.
You flinch as the kettle begins to whistle on the stovetop. Stepping into your slippers, you rise from the couch to make your tea.
Three months, one week, and four days. That’s how long Simon Riley has been on the other side of the world… And you’ve felt every minute of it.
There was a time, what feels like ages ago, when his surly exterior set your teeth on edge… When every word out of his mouth had you irritated enough to contemplate smacking that bored look right out of his eyes.
A time before .
Before you got to know the soul lurking beneath the mask and the eye black. Before he won you over with his heated stares, his dry humor, his unwavering devotion.
Before Simon Riley .
Feels like another lifetime.
Tea steeping in hand, you return to the couch and begin flicking at the remote to find something to feed your weary heart this Valentine’s night.
Pride & Prejudice … Why not? Perhaps one surly bastard can distract you from how dearly you miss another.
You’re not ten minutes into the movie, though, when a knock sounds at the door of your apartment. With a frown, you pause the movie and glance at the clock; half-past nine? A bit late for any possible deliveries… And the TV volume isn’t loud enough to bug the neighbors. So who…?
Putting your slippers back on, you stride over to the door.
“Hello?” you call out.
No answer.
You straighten to gaze through the peephole—
And the breath is stolen from your lungs.
You fumble clumsily with the deadbolt before flinging open the door and ushering Simon inside.
“Hey, baby,” he rumbles, a hint of amusement lacing his tone at the sight of your eagerness.
“Simon!” You exclaim, closing and locking the door behind you. “What—? But you—”
“Surprise,” he drawls in an endearingly poor attempt at sing-song. After dropping the duffel bag from his right hand, he reaches up and pulls off the skull-patterned balaclava he always wears while traveling.
Simon’s blonde hair is mussed as always; it’s gotten a bit long, in his absence, though you certainly don’t mind. He’s fixing you with one of those tentative smiles that never fails to make you melt—boyishly shy, almost, as if he’s meeting you for the first time. Still… You don’t miss the dark circles surrounding his eyes, and the places where he didn’t quite manage to scrub away all the eye black. He’s weary, that much is plain to see, and it constricts your heart.
“You didn’t have to push yourself to make it back in time for Valentine’s, Simon,” you murmur, feeling a bit guilty. With only a few small steps, you close the distance between the two of you, pressing yourself flush to his broad chest.
“I know, sweetheart,” he mumbles. When he pulls away, you’re confused for only the briefest of moments—before he’s pulling his other hand out from behind his back. “But I wanted to.”
Like some romantic tableau from your most vivid dreams, Simon Riley—clad in black jeans and an equally-dark hoodie—presents you with a dozen vibrant red roses.
You gasp, clutching the bouquet to your chest with careful hands. Eagerly, you bury your nose into the blooms and inhale, but blink as your cheek collides with something smooth.
“What’s this?” You reach into the flowers and find—a seashell? Small and iridescent, the crescent-shaped trinket bears holes in a couple places, one of which a loop of dark twine has been threaded through.
Simon steps forward, closing the distance between you once more, one hand snaking behind your waist as the other comes up to join you in cradling the small shell.
“Saw it on one of the beaches in Mexico… Reminded me of you.”
Something warm unfurls in your chest; you dart your gaze upward to meet his dark eyes, now soft in their affection for you.
“Of me?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs quietly, as if a little embarrassed by the notion… But he can’t just say something that sweet and think he’s getting out of it. You raise your eyebrows expectantly, prompting him to continue. “It’s… Beautiful. And, uh… I could see my reflection in it. Only, you know…” He clears some of the hoarseness from his throat. “Brighter.”
Logically, you know there was a time before Simon Riley .
But you don’t think you could ever go back.
Overcome by the strength of your feeling, you rest the thoughtful tokens gently on the modest kitchen table before standing on your tip-toes to capture his lips in a searing kiss.
“All that over a bauble,” he chuckles, low and hungry as his hands pull you flush against him.
“No, Simon,” you breathe, a grin warming your face. “Over you .”