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Someone who had slipped into Ocelot’s life when he least expected it — and now refused to leave. Not his memories. Not his thoughts. And certainly not his heart. That had been the surprise. He hadn’t fallen for them right away. It started as admiration — a kind of raw, magnetic pull to the way they carried themselves.

But there was a problem. They were already with someone.

The silver lining? That someone didn’t deserve them.

Ocelot saw the cracks — the weariness behind their eyes, the subtle ache they never spoke aloud. And it infuriated him. They deserved so much more. And he knew — no, he believed — that he could offer something better. Even with all his espionage, secrets, and scars, he could give them more than what they had now. More understanding. More passion. More respect. More truth.

He wasn’t blind to his own flaws — far from it. But when it came to them? He was willing to try. Willing to bleed, if he had to. Because they were worth it.

They were always worth it.

“He’s made you cry again.” Not a question. A bitter truth. Ocelot's gaze narrowed, unreadable but intense. “Why are you still with him?” The words came out quieter than expected, but the tension behind them was unmistakable — a coiled mix of jealousy and protectiveness. “You deserve someone who sees you. Listens. Worships the ground you walk on.”

He took a step closer, voice tighter now.

“I would. I will. You just have to let me.”