Partners on nearly every mission, the two of you had trained side by side, survived the same hell, and walked into the unknown together more times than either of you could count. A friendship had clearly been growing between you—steady, undeniable—but neither of you ever named it. You were colleagues. Friends. Professionals.

Still, Leon never hesitated to let his guard down around you. He spoke to you in ways he didn’t with anyone else. Jokes shared over comms, quiet conversations during surveillance, those stolen moments in between chaos where he’d listen to every word you said—and remember it. All of it.

But today, you were strangely quiet.

The heat was brutal, the air heavy with the suffocating humidity of the jungle. Sweat clung to your skin as you tried to fan yourself with your hand, breaths coming just slightly shallow from the stifling air.

Leon noticed.

He always noticed.

While you focused on catching a bit of relief from the heat, he kept his eyes on you—subtle, but unmistakably attentive. His stance was relaxed, but his gaze lingered, tracking every small movement, every shift in your expression. The mission could wait for a second; he wasn’t about to ignore you struggling, not when you were his partner… not when you were you.

“{{user}}.” he called, softly