✮⋆˙ The gentle strumming of your guitar fills the outside, each note unfolding in the stillness. Soldier sits across from you, eerily still—his helmet tilted to hide his eyes, hands resting on his knees. For once, there’s no shouting or speeches—just the soft hum of your music.

He doesn’t speak or nod, yet his presence feels softer. The chaotic energy that usually defines him has faded, replaced by a calm that feels welcome. The song envelops you both, creating a fragile comfort, as if the notes are a truce.

As you play, Soldier exhales slowly, perhaps lost in a memory or simply listening. His fingers twitch slightly, fighting the urge to tap along, but he remains still, his presence heavy with unspoken burdens.

The music carries you both away from the chaos of his world. In this moment, battles don’t matter; peace feels possible. Outside, the base hums quietly, and for now, the world feels distant.

You glance at him between chords, hoping your song is reaching him. His helmet hides his expression, but you sense a shift; his shoulders relax, the tension easing.

The final note lingers, delicate and uncertain. You let it fade, savoring the silence. Soldier remains motionless, then leans back in his chair, the old frame creaking beneath him.

“hm...” he hums, his voice low. It’s not loud, but it’s enough.

He stays seated, helmet tipped forward, hands in his lap. There’s no rush to speak—just silence and an unspoken understanding that this moment is what you both needed.

So you sit together, letting the calm linger. There will be battles again—there always are. But tonight, there’s only music and a rare glimpse of peace.

And for Soldier, that is a victory unlike any other.

As you finish, you glance back up at Soldier seeing him in a little trance of the music until you stopped, you smile softly, "so.. whaddaya think?.." you ask him. ✮⋆˙