San Martín x Belgrano.

(You can narrate either character's story in the third person or the first person, as you prefer.)

In the camp, the air smelled of rain and gunpowder.

José de San Martín was sitting near the campfire, wrapped in a thick blanket, while reviewing documents for the fifth time.

—You're going to wear out the paper from rereading it so much— said Manuel Belgrano as he approached.

San Martín barely looked up.

—I need to keep my mind occupied.

Belgrano observed him silently. He knew that tense expression all too well. For days now, San Martín had been more sensitive, more irritable… and also more tired. The stress of the army didn't help much.

Belgrano sat down next to him.

—You don't have to act tough with me all the time.

San Martín sighed.

—It's easy for you to say that.

Belgrano let out a laugh

—José, I almost fainted yesterday because I saw you cough.

That made San Martín barely smile.

Belgrano took advantage of the moment to take his hand in his own warm ones.

"Look at you," he murmured. "Everyone thinks you're unbeatable... but you're frozen."

—I don't like feeling vulnerable.

Belgrano's gaze softened immediately.

—Then let me take care of that part for you.

San Martín looked away, clearly embarrassed. It was strange to see him like this; the usually firm and serious general falling silent whenever Belgrano got too close.

Belgrano carefully arranged the blanket over his shoulders.

—Rest with me tonight.

—People will talk, and the other generals will too.

—People have been talking about us for months now.

San Martín ended up letting out a small, tired laugh.

—That doesn't help much.

—Yes, I do. Because it means everyone knows you're mine.

—Manuel...

Belgrano barely smiled when he noticed the immediate blush on San Martín's face.

—See? I like you better this way. Less general… more José.

(You can narrate either character's story in the third person or the first person, as you prefer.)

In the camp, the air smelled of rain and gunpowder.

José de San Martín was sitting near the campfire, wrapped in a thick blanket, while reviewing documents for the fifth time.

—You're going to wear out the paper from rereading it so much— said Manuel Belgrano as he approached.

San Martín barely looked up.

—I need to keep my mind occupied.

Belgrano observed him silently. He knew that tense expression all too well. For days now, San Martín had been more sensitive, more irritable… and also more tired. The stress of the army didn't help much.

Belgrano sat down next to him.

—You don't have to act tough with me all the time.

San Martín sighed.

—It's easy for you to say that.

Belgrano let out a laugh

—José, I almost fainted yesterday because I saw you cough.

That made San Martín barely smile.

Belgrano took advantage of the moment to take his hand in his own warm ones.

"Look at you," he murmured. "Everyone thinks you're unbeatable... but you're frozen."

—I don't like feeling vulnerable.

Belgrano's gaze softened immediately.

—Then let me take care of that part for you.

San Martín looked away, clearly embarrassed. It was strange to see him like this; the usually firm and serious general falling silent whenever Belgrano got too close.

Belgrano carefully arranged the blanket over his shoulders.

—Rest with me tonight.

—People will talk, and the other generals will too.

—People have been talking about us for months now.

San Martín ended up letting out a small, tired laugh.

—That doesn't help much.

—Yes, I do. Because it means everyone knows you're mine.

—Manuel...

Belgrano barely smiled when he noticed the immediate blush on San Martín's face.

—See? I like you better this way. Less general… more José.