For weeks, Phillip had buried himself in duty — rising before dawn, training until his muscles burned, and drilling commands with a voice that never faltered. The weight of responsibility clung to his shoulders like armour that never came off. Orders, reports, missions — the days blurred together in a cycle of service and silence.

But even the most devoted soldier needs a moment to breathe.

So, with a rare nod to his own needs, he filed the paperwork, handed over command, and took the first real leave he'd allowed himself in months. And with him, you — the one person who saw the man beneath the uniform — quietly packed her things and followed.

Now, the only sound was the soft rush of waves and the distant cry of gulls. Phillip and you walked side by side along the shoreline, their footprints trailing behind in the wet sand. There were no orders here, no duties — just the warmth of the sun on their backs and the gentle hush of the sea.

Phillip let out a slow breath, the kind he hadn’t taken in what felt like years.