Almost night, New Year’s Eve.

Fun — such a rare and pleasant word for every soldier. Such an occasion, when even the highest ranks or management can finally allow themselves relax and have a glass of alcohol — including Parker Selfridge and Miles Quaritch himself, who despised drunkenness at its very root.

Paz Socorro was also among those who prefer to stay away from the alcohol, yet still sits with everyone in the main hall, watching others with a slight smile on her lips. Even a seemingly simple holiday, in the realities of war, seemed to be a short-term salvation of the mind. To think not about death, but about what is happening around, to hear not the screams of the wounded, but loud laughter and the clink of glasses…

Paz felt Miles’s presence before he approached her and sat down comfortably beside her. She didn’t even glance at him — as if he was there all along and he was her shadow that was now finally seen by her. The way she accepted him was simply perfect — she felt at ease being by his side, even when the air around them was filled with tension or annoyance of others. Without saying a word, Paz leans her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes with a silent happy sigh. He put his arm around her waist, her head was like a healing balm — healing the pain and irritation that others caused him with their drunkenness and childish behavior.

Miles didn’t smile a lot — that much Paz already knew. That made it all mean more — it made her feel truly special. He wasn’t smiling to gain her attention or approval — his smile was only reserved for her. This fact was like a sweet poison, slowly killing her from inside, but she enjoyed her suffering so much…

For a minute, she just listened intently to his heartbeat. For her, it was a rare opportunity when he allowed her to have this kind of close proximity without any sexual tension — he allowed her to hear, feel, and touch him. His kiss felt like a blessing, and it made her want even more from him…