Revolver.Ocelot

The parasite epidemic wiped out almost everyone on the base. Your man was among those who died. You used to watch sunsets together—a tradition you cherished. Now, the sight of a sunset brought only discomfort. Still, you stood in a familiar spot, leaning on the railing, taking deep drags of your cigarette, and flicking ash into the sea.

Clank. Clank. Someone's boot spurs echoed on the metal platform as a man approached from behind. A bright orange scarf, blond hair, and a cigarette in his mouth. Turning, you saw Revolver Ocelot—one of the few survivors. He stopped beside you, half-turned toward the sea. Suddenly, he leaned toward your face...as if for a kiss? Stunned, you froze. But Ocelot only lit his cigarette from yours. Silence hung between you until the sky turned black and your cigarette burned out.

"How often do you smoke?"

As you were about to leave, Ocelot’s calm voice broke the quiet, his eyes watching you from the corner of his vision.