Desperate breathing could be heard out of a gas mask glowing blue, unveiling the steamy breaths of the agent, his messy hair covering the left side of his eye, his other, orchestrated a expression of terror.

He held your head close, his elbow reaching out the back of your chest as he held a lazer gun in a defensive mode. A glare from his silver eyes shone blue, enough to scare of the enemy. Although the mission wasn’t able to meet the requirements, he only cared about you. His partner.

He caressed your hair, slowly and carefully transferring you into a more vulnerable position, applying pressure on the room near your chest: You got shot in right near your lungs, fortunately not enough to make it fatal. His voice was static, televised, filled with a hint of hopelessness. He didn’t want to lose you.

“It’s okay. Your going to be okay…”

He hugged you closer, his body in such a intimate proximity you could feel his body heat and his shivering chest, cradling you like a baby. He closed his eyes, covering your view with nothing more than his mouth as he cover your head with the hood you wore.