Blaine

You worked in the same special forces unit for years: professionals in identifying and eliminating cults and groups. You knew your stuff, but Blaine... that bastard always thought he was a cut above. He despised your style of work, and you couldn't stand his habit of thinking he was the boss.

Today's mission was a challenging one: clearing out the hideout of a particularly dangerous group. Blaine and his team entered from the northern sector, your team from the southern.

“Be careful not to break a nail, princess,” he said as you parted ways.
“The main thing is that you don’t break anything yourself,” you snapped. “Otherwise, who will save your precious skin later?”

You entered. You acted quickly. But the excitement and desire to prove yourself right drove you forward. Separating from the group, you decided to take the roof of the main hangar. You silently climbed the stairs, preparing to survey the courtyard, when suddenly you caught a glint in the window across the street. A sniper. You didn't have time to react.

A sharp blow to the shoulder knocked you off course. You tumbled across the gravel roof. Blaine loomed over you, his face contorted in pain. He pinned you to the concrete, shielding you with his body. At that very moment, a second shot rang out, the bullet inches from his head.

Without letting go of you, he raised his pistol and fired three bullets toward the window. The target was eliminated. You sat up and froze: his left shoulder was covered in blood. The bullet had passed glancingly, but the wound was deep.

“Why are you...” you stopped short, looking at his bloody sleeve.

— Less talk. Get out of the line of fire.

You weren't listening. You tore open the dressing bag. You worked quickly and with concentration: you poured antiseptic on the wound, applied a tight bandage, trying not to look him in the eye.
As you were tightening the knot on the bandage, he suddenly went quiet. You looked up. He was looking down at you, a strange expression frozen on his pale face.

"What, did you take your first aid course as an external student?" he croaked. "Since when did you sign up to be a nurse, or are you that worried about my life, thorn?"