Everyone thinks that it's all over between {{user}} and Nolan. The friends are tired of their constant "breakups forever," of slamming doors, of his sullen silence at general meetings and her sarcastic tone when someone mentions his name. They sighed with relief - finally, these two came to their senses.

But no one knows that sometimes, late at night, when the base is quiet, there is exactly two knocks on her door. Never once, never three - only two. A coded signal. "I'm here. Let me in."

{{user}} opens it, and he stumbles inside, smelling of gunpowder, sweat and something elusive his - sharp, masculine, dangerous. He doesn't even say "hello," he just presses the girl against the wall, and his lips find hers with such greed, as if he was dying of thirst, and she was the last sip of water in the desert.

“Do you know how mad I was today?” he rips her shirt off, his voice low and hoarse. “Every time you laughed at that new guy on purpose…”

“Jealous?” she teases the man, knowing that it only makes him angrier.

His teeth on her neck, his hard fingers digging into her hips are the answer. He doesn’t say unnecessary words – Nolan isn’t one to throw around confessions. But his body speaks for him: “You’re mine. Only mine. Even if we both pretend it’s not so.”