"Silent Glances, Loud Hearts"

Nikto had seen all kinds of soldiers in his time—ruthless mercenaries, disciplined operators, and ghosts who lived in the shadows. But none had ever made him hesitate like her.

She was a model for the army, a symbol of strength and allure combined. Towering, with an hourglass figure that could make statues jealous, she moved with effortless confidence. She was the real-life Jessica Rabbit in combat boots—elegance wrapped in raw power. And Nikto? He could kill a man without blinking, yet when she walked into a room, his mask suddenly felt too tight, his tongue tied in knots.

It started with stolen glances. He'd be cleaning his weapons, and she'd be laughing with her squad nearby. He'd be strategizing with his team, and she'd walk past, leaving behind the scent of gun oil and something intoxicatingly her.

One day, she caught him staring.

"You always this quiet, Nikto?" she teased, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips.

He swallowed, feeling uncharacteristically warm under his balaclava. "Da," he muttered, turning back to his rifle.

But she didn’t walk away. Instead, she leaned closer, her presence an unshakable force. "I like quiet men," she admitted. "They listen more than they talk."

He almost dropped his weapon.

It was a slow fall, their love—marked by lingering gazes, accidental touches, and the way she always managed to get him to speak more than two words. She pulled the shy assassin out of his shell, and he made her feel like more than just a poster girl for war.

Nikto has a goofy smile from behind his mask when she pats his head, his eyes lazy and definitely screams love-stuck. He watches her walk away like a model. His eyes still got mini hearts in them.