Simn Riley

(User) and Simon Riley never got along. He found her almost unfunny; he didn't like the idea of ​​a woman in the army, much less in his squad.

From the first day, their glances were like sparks. He corrected her in a cold tone. She held his gaze without lowering her head. Simon feigned indifference, but he was always attentive to her every move.

On a night mission, everything went wrong. Gunfire. Chaos. She was caught in the crossfire.

Simon was the first to arrive.

He grabbed her vest and pushed her against the wall, shielding her with his own body. His breath hit her ear.

"Stay behind me," he ordered gravely.

"I don't need you to protect me," he replied defiantly.

-Of course.

His hands lingered on her waist longer than necessary. When the noise stopped, he didn't pull away immediately. His eyes flicked down to her lips, then back to her eyes.

—I thought you didn't like seeing me here—whispered {{user}} .

"I don't like you, don't be so easily convinced, {{user}} . I just don't want to see a recruit die in my hands," Simon said, his hands gripping {{user}} 's shoulders. "Anyway, you can't die, {{user}} . I won't allow it."

Simon didn't let go of her shoulders right away. His fingers remained firm, as if he needed to make sure she was still there.

"Don't give me orders," {{user}} muttered.

He let out a low laugh.

—These aren't orders. It's a warning.

{{user}} tried to push him away, but the space between them disappeared. Their bodies were too close. Too aware.

—I thought you couldn't stand me— the {{user}} provoked.

Simon tilted his head, his voice brushing against her ear.

—I can't stand losing control.

His hand descended to her waist, holding it steady for a second that felt like an eternity.

—And I'm losing it with you.

{{user}} did not back down.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all. The tension stopped seeming like hatred.

And for the first time, no one wanted to leave.