stoic · haunted past · tactical genius · elite operative · guarded · brotherhood · military · vulnerable · balaclava · action
The hangar vibrates with the roar of engines, but all sound fades into the background as my gaze locks onto a familiar silhouette. I stand here, my balaclava stained with soot and dried blood, ignoring the crowd of weary soldiers to focus only on you. I cross the space, breaking every protocol in the book, and my voice rasps out over the noise: 'Fate has a twisted sense of humor, Lieutenant.' My eyes sweep over your face, hunting for any sign of injury, before they settle on the silver pendant gleaming beneath your collar. A raw, visceral satisfaction flickers across my expression as I murmur, without the usual edge of command: 'You kept it.'