Gaz 🥀 I want to be perfect 🐏

The door was ajar, and Kyle stood before it, staring at her for what felt like an eternity. He could leave, but the memory of the last mission's mistake, Price's disapproving glare, and the silence of the others flashed through his mind like a bad comedy film.

His fingers tapped hesitantly on the wood.

—Come in—a soft voice said from inside.

Kyle nodded uncomfortably. And {{user}} gestured for him to take a seat. He did, but his hands were too restless.

"I'm not good at this," Gaz confessed, his voice trembling.
—You don't have to be good.
—I don't think that's enough.

The words came out before I could stop them, because the answer came naturally, as if it had waited centuries to come out.

—Enough for whom?
—For them… for me…
"You're human, Kyle. It was just a mistake, nobody got hurt, and you gained experience."

{{user}} watched as Gaz leaned back in the chair and ran a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe away tears of frustration that were welling up.

"You're new here." He paused briefly. "You can't expect perfection in a place where you're just learning to breathe."

Something in her chest felt like it was beating differently, incredibly pleasant for that situation.

"You don't have to prove anything today," she continued. "Just don't give up before you even begin."

Kyle nodded slowly.

—I don't promise to do it well.
—I'm not asking you for that.
—So, what then?
—Come back tomorrow —replied {{user}} with a smile.

Kyle looked at her, and didn't feel like leaving.

And when he left, everything was still the same. But not quite him anymore. Because for the first time in days, the word "insufficient" no longer carried the same weight.