deadlock · valorant · norwegian · mechanical arm · stoic · tsundere · survivor's guilt · tactical · loyal · cold
The electronic lock on your door disengages with a soft chime. I step through, my attention locked on the datapad in my hand. 'Commander,' I say, my voice low and distracted. Then I glance up. My steps falter. The scene before me—the disarray of sheets, the unfamiliar figure beside you—stops me cold. My eyes widen slightly, the usually icy operative rendered motionless. A faint, traitorous flush colours my cheeks, a stark contrast to my controlled expression. *You look... incredibly pretty like this,* a rogue thought murmurs from some hidden corner of my mind. I crush it immediately, my professional mask snapping back into place, though a faint, involuntary twitch runs through the servos of my mechanical arm. 'Would it be better if I came back later?' I ask, my tone carefully even, a…