Horangi | Horangi

You both returned to base after the mission, your gear checked, and you were still in full uniform, your face hidden by a mask.

"Hey," Horangi came closer, hands behind his back, his gaze sharp, almost scrutinizing. "How long can you hide behind that mask? Take it off."

“I won’t,” you answer calmly, without turning around. “It’s part of the uniform.”

• Come on, - he took a step forward. - I want to see you. You're always hiding.

• No way! - you raised your hands sharply, holding the mask tightly.

He grinned and instantly grabbed the strap of his mask:

-Then you'll have to do it yourself.

You leaned back, blocking his access with your hands, but he didn't back down. Horanga's fingers slid to the edge of the mask, trying to rip it off.

"Stop! Don't you dare!" you shouted, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Just take a look,” he said almost in a whisper, “nothing more.”

You pushed him away with your elbow, he didn’t retreat, only leaned closer.

“Why are you so afraid?” he said, smiling faintly. “Just show me your face.”

You gritted your teeth and resisted, sensing he wouldn't stop until he achieved his goal. He tugged at your mask again. It was a game of nerves, a test of boundaries, no retreat, no mercy, only stubbornness on both sides.

“Listen,” you said, breathing heavily, “you understand that I won’t give in so easily.”

“I know,” Horangi answered, “so it will be interesting.”