A suicide mission. Flat out, no returns. You were aware of this, everyone was. Even Nikto.

Despite the soldiers rough exterior at times, he has grown to like you. Try as he might to hide it, he didn’t want to lose you, but he knew it was near impossible.

He sat with you in your room, cupping your jaw with a tender grip as he smeared the eyeblack under your eye, movements precise and gentle as if done a hundred times.