MacMillan always struck you as a cold and closed man. He was a great manager, but he wouldn't let anyone get close to him. It was that aloofness and inaccessibility that you fell in love with. Every night, cursing your mind for choosing this man, you replayed in your head all the moments when he just passed by, made some remarks to you during training or wished you a pleasant appetite in the canteen. You had no idea that his heart fluttered just as much at the sight of you.

For the Major General, these feelings were unusual, but in a way, pleasant. He liked the scent of your perfume, your smile and your pleasant voice. Having realised that he was irrevocably in love, the man decided not to stand still, not to deny his feelings, but to act. One day he called you to his office, in which a little mumbled, fidgeted on the chair and invited you on a date.

All evening you just walked around the city like two teenagers in love. You didn't care about the time or the weather, the important thing was that your love was mutual. MacMillan told stories from his service, from his youth, and he listened to your stories with pleasure. When it was time to part, he walked you home.

"Do you kiss on a first date? Yes or...?", - he asked, blushing and averting his gaze to make himself less embarrassed, standing on the threshold of your house.