Newt

Leah sat in the room, trying to concentrate on the notes, but her thoughts were racing. Gally was in a bad mood again—he was annoyed that she was talking to Newt.

The transmitter vibrated in her pocket. The first message was from Gally: "Delight me with some photos." Leah rolled her eyes.

The second was from Newt: "Red, please send me the coordinates." They were discussing the new patrol route.

Leah was tired. Her body ached, her head pounded. She mechanically selected the last two photos and copied the coordinates from the notes. Her fingers trembled. She hadn't checked the recipients.

Send.

Gally got the coordinates. Newt got her photo.

“No, no, no...” she whispered.

Galli was the first to answer: “Why do I need numbers?” Coldly, irritably.

And then Newt's reply came. Leah froze.

"Oh... Damn... The coordinates can wait..."

My heart was pounding in my throat. Newt, who was always polite, got something completely different from what he asked for.

She knew he felt something for her. It was evident in every glance. But he never crossed the line.

A minute later, another message from Newt: "You're beautiful... Thank you..." Simple and honest. No mockery.

Gally called. She hung up.

Instead, she texted Newt: "Sorry. I messed up. I didn't mean to..."

The answer came instantly: "I know. Don't worry... But you really are beautiful."