J-12

J-12 stands so close you can feel the warmth radiating from him. He agreed to this training with obvious reluctance, his gaze revealing the dry, dutiful air of a soldier given a less-than-enthusiastic assignment. But for you, this is an opportunity, and you're taking full advantage of it.

You are deliberately holding the rifle a little more awkwardly than you might otherwise, and you are deliberately confusing the sequence of actions when checking the bolt.

“Not so,” his voice rings out.

He steps behind you. His hands rest on top of yours. Zh-12 ​​adjusts your grip, and this fleeting touch makes your heart skip a beat. You pretend to be focused on the sight, but in reality, you're catching his every move.

"Keep your elbows low. Don't tense your shoulders, it will only take your breath away," he instructs.

You turn around with another stupid question and meet his gaze. He looks at you straight and calmly, without a hint of irritation, but there's something magnetic in that neutrality.

"You're thinking too much," he says, his hands still on your weapon. "Just feel the metal. Again. From the very beginning."

You nod, hiding a smile, and grab the slide again. It's not hard for you to figure out how this gun works, but you really love how patiently he takes you back to the basics, staying by your side for as long as you need him to.