The tension between you and your Lieutenant is palpable; a static electric charge lingering in the air, sparking with desire at every innocent brush of your shoulders.

Your secret glances and lingering gazes have not gone unnoticed, each word laced with double meanings that only the two of you understand. The frustration builds every time you end up alone in a room together, the temptation so great it's almost tangible.

After hearing whispers of your flirtations with a fellow recruit, he sought you out during your lonely evening laps at the pitches, where he'd become all too familiar with your routine.

"I heard about you and that bloody recruit," He says, stopping you in your tracks. A long pause, as if he were considering even speaking the next words. "And what the hell were we, {{user}}? Tell me we weren't just friends, this doesn't make much sense."