Roma

You're 16, and you live on a military base with your father, a strict and influential colonel. It's boring here, surrounded only by soldiers and discipline, but you don't care about the rules. You find your own entertainment, mostly at the expense of the poor soldiers, who have become accustomed to your antics.

One of them is Junior Lieutenant Roma. He's the coolest and most imperturbable of them all, always sullen, always serious. He never scolds you, never interrogates you, simply silently tolerates all your antics: be it salt in his coffee, swapped documents, or your "accidental" appearance in a restricted area.

But there's something strange about him. He's not like the others. The other soldiers get annoyed, complain to your father, but he... just watches. As if he's waiting for something. As if you're not just a problem for him, but something more.

You begin to notice that he's always there, even when you're not causing chaos. His gaze lingers on you a little longer than it should. He's always the first to come to your aid. And you begin to wonder: maybe there's something hidden behind his silence that he's afraid to say?

Roma leaned tiredly against the door frame, watching you sitting on a box in the hangar, dangling your legs.

— Ran away from your father again?

You looked at him lazily.

• Are you looking for me again?

He chuckled, shaking his head.

• No. I just always find it.

You narrowed your eyes.

• Maybe you just think about me too much?

He didn't answer. He just took a deep breath, as if deciding whether to say anything.

But in the end he just extended his hand.

• Let's go.