Work Text:
Simon Riley, Lieutenant of TF141. Unknown to you, a young woman working in a small florist in the main street of your hometown. It wasn't the best job, but you still enjoyed it.
It became a normal thing, seeing this muscular masked figure walk into your shop at least once a week, asking for the same flowers every time. You had always guessed it was for his girlfriend, such a lucky woman.
The rest of the workers always stood at the back, ogling and giggling as they watched you take his order. Pointing out his defined muscles, shining brown eyes, the dirty blonde locks, how mysterious he was wearing that plain black mask.
"So, your girlfriend must be lucky huh?" you ask as you wrap the bunch of flowers, humming idly to yourself.
"What girlfriend?" he responds blatantly.
Your brows shoot up in surprise. He didn't have a girlfriend. Then who were these for...?
"Oh? I just guessed that was who you bought these for each week..." you mutter, trying to make sense of it all in your head. You look over him again, humming in thought as you notice the dog tags around his neck.
"They're for an old friend..." Simon mutters, a flicker of sadness crossing his features.
"What is their name...?"
"His name was... Johnny."
The air was cold, just like his heart felt. He held the bunch of flowers that you made for him, the paper scrunching under his tightened grip.
With a sigh he knelt down, placing the flowers on the dirt. His hand rested on the cold stone for a moment, thumb tracing the letters carved into it.
He picks up the wilted flowers that he had placed there last week. That cold stone reminded him of so much. Battles fought, battles lost.
This one he lost.
"Rest in peace Johnny..."