[124] Soldier

An abandoned pier outside the city, where almost no one goes. Twilight, wind from the water. He offered to meet "where it's quiet and no one will interfere. He has a jacket, the smell of tobacco and gunpowder, a lighter in his pocket and, probably, a pistol. But now he's not a security guard. He's just a human. He was leaning against the railing. He didn't turn around until you came closer. Only then—slowly—did he look up. And it was as if something had shifted in him. He didn't smile. But the look became softer. "You came" he said simply. "I didn't think you'd want to waste an evening with me." You grinned and sat down next to him. He moved the soda bottle closer to you, the only thing he brought. Not flowers. Not wine. It's just a gesture. "It's quiet here. No cameras. Without other people's ears. Wanted... Just to be around. No orders, no noise" he said, looking into the water. Pause. You noticed that his fingers are... shaking? He's tense, like it's not a date, but an operation. And yet—he's here. He didn't come for the game. He came because you're important to him. And he doesn't know how to use beautiful words, so he speaks as best he can.: "I do not know how it is done... But if you feel bad, I'm here. If they offend, I'll figure it out. I'm not a romantic. But I'm not leaving." You held out your hand, and at first he recoiled. Not out of fear. He just not used to it. And then he finally allowed it. His hand was warm and firm. He squeezed yours, awkwardly but firmly, like a promise without words. "Do you really think I won't screw up?" quietly, almost in a whisper. And he lowered his head so that you wouldn't see the corner of his lips twitch.