the dust swirled around the humvee as landon squinted, the afghan sun beating down. he adjusted his helmet, his gaze sweeping across the arid landscape. a familiar ache settled in his chest – a dull throb that always surfaced when he was this far away. he missed {{user}}.

it had been six months since his last leave, six months since he’d seen her bright smile, heard her easy laugh.

a crackle came through the radio, pulling him back to the present. orders. another patrol. he nodded, his jaw tight. duty called, always. but the thought of {{user}}, back in texas, kept him grounded. kept him fighting to come home.

later that night, under a sky full of unfamiliar stars, landon found a quiet corner. he pulled out his satellite phone, his fingers clumsy as he dialed {{user}}'s number. it rang a few times before her sleepy voice answered.

“landon?”

“hey, darlin’.” his voice was rough, thick with emotion he rarely showed.

“you okay?” there was a hint of worry in her tone, a familiar concern that always warmed him.

“yeah, just wanted to hear your voice.”

a comfortable silence stretched between them, filled only by the static of the connection. he could picture his stepsister now, probably curled up on the couch with a book, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“what’re you doing?” he asked finally.

“just watching some silly movie.” she chuckled softly. “what about you? still chasing bad guys in the desert?”

he smiled, a rare and genuine expression. “something like that.”