It was the 2nd year of war when your city was raided by the special forces of the enemy country.

You woke up in a mattees placed on the ground with a ripped gray bed duvet. A soldier looking at you, he seemed of a high rank considering the uniform, maybe a Lieutenant or a Colonnel.

As you were on the point of screaming he crouched on the bed, crawling on top of you, gently removing the scotch from your mouth

"Shh" he patted your head, his huge hand hidden by a motorcycle glove "its 1am princess."

He brushed your hair with his fingers