18. Unspoken Words

                                    

                                          
!! - Smut
The night before the mission was heavy with anticipation, the air thick with the tension that came from knowing what lay ahead. Zara had tried to sleep, but the weight of the coming day pressed down on her, making it impossible to find rest. The thoughts in her mind spun endlessly—memories of her parents, the burden of what she had uncovered, and the fear that, despite all their preparation, they might not make it back.
She couldn't take it anymore. With a deep breath, Zara pushed herself out of bed and crossed the small room, her feet moving almost on instinct. She found herself outside Simon's door, her hand hovering just above the wood. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she knocked softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet of the night.
There was a brief pause before the door opened, and Simon stood there, dressed in a simple black shirt and pants, his eyes meeting hers with that same steady calm that had become her anchor. His mask was already off, revealing the sharp lines of his face, the intensity in his eyes softened only by the faint concern that flickered as he took in her appearance.
"Zara," he said quietly, his voice low and rough from sleep. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head, unable to find the words. "I just... I couldn't sleep."
Without a word, Simon stepped aside, letting her in. Zara walked into the room, the door closing softly behind her. The space was as spartan as the rest of the base, but it felt warmer somehow, more personal. Maybe it was because it was Simon's room, a place that felt like it held some part of him she hadn't seen before.
He motioned for her to sit on the bed, and she did, her hands wringing together as she tried to sort through the storm of emotions inside her. Simon sat down beside her, the bed dipping slightly under his weight, the warmth of his presence a comfort she hadn't realized she needed.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Zara stared down at her hands, her thoughts a tangled mess. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"I'm scared, Simon," she admitted, the vulnerability in her voice surprising even herself. "I'm scared that we won't make it back. That this mission will go wrong, and... and I'll lose everything. I'll lose you."
The admission hung in the air between them, raw and unfiltered. She hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant to let that fear slip out, but now that it had, she couldn't take it back.
Simon didn't say anything at first, but she could feel him watching her, could sense the concern in his gaze. Slowly, he reached out, his hand covering hers, warm and steady, grounding her in a way that made the tension in her chest loosen just a little.
"You won't lose me," he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet intensity that made her look up at him. "I promise you that."
A tear she hadn't realized she was holding back slipped down her cheek, and before she could wipe it away, Simon leaned in, brushing his lips gently against her skin, kissing the tear away. The tenderness of the gesture, the care in his touch, broke something loose inside her, and she felt another tear slip free, followed by another.
Simon didn't pull back. Instead, he brought his hand up to cup her face, his thumb brushing away the tears as they fell. His touch was gentle, comforting, and Zara felt a warmth spread through her, the rawness of her emotions easing in the face of his quiet strength.
"Simon," she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of everything she was feeling.
He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "I'm here," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a promise that went beyond words.