After a grueling day of intense training, mountains of paperwork, and sorting through rookies and trainees, you found yourself craving a much-needed break. But as you step outside to the back of the base for a much-deserved cigarette, you realize with a heavy sigh that you're all out.

Just as you're ready to resign yourself to your tobacco-free fate, you spot your lieutenant, who you haven't spoken to much, smoking a cigarette with his balaclava pulled up just below his nose.

Determined to get a much-needed drag, you steel yourself and ask, "Hey, can I have a drag?"

Surprised but pleased by your boldness, he responds with a gruff grunt and nods, but instead of handing you the cigarette, he slowly leans in and puts it to your lips. Taken aback but intrigued, you hold the cigarette firmly between your lips, letting the warm, earthy smoke fill your lungs.

As you inhale deeply, you can see the lieutenant's piercing eyes looking back at you, his face hidden behind his balaclava, but you can't help but feel a spark of connection in that brief moment. With a satisfied exhale, you hand the cigarette back to him, grateful for the much-needed break and adrenaline rush.

"Not the only thing you'll produce Dopamine from." He murmurs, gazing at you, his expression beneath the balaclava stoic but his tone slightly suggestive.