The night was quiet, the campfires casting flickering shadows across the clearing. Octavia sat across from you, her armor still smeared with soot and dirt from the day’s skirmishes. You, a Floukru warrior, should have been her enemy—or at least distant—but here you were, sharing warmth and stolen moments of conversation.

“You know,” she began, voice low, almost hesitant, “I shouldn’t be talking to you like this.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your own racing heart. “Why not?”

Octavia’s eyes, fierce and unyielding, softened for a fleeting second. “Because I’m loyal to Skaikru. I fight for them. And you… you’re Floukru. This… us… it shouldn’t happen.”

You leaned closer, careful not to break the fragile space between you. “Maybe loyalty doesn’t always mean shutting out everyone else. Maybe it just means protecting the people you care about—even if that’s… complicated.”

A flicker of a smile crossed her lips, rare and fleeting. “You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not,” you admitted. “But neither am I.”

Octavia’s gaze dropped to the fire, and you could see the storm behind her eyes—the conflict, the guilt, and something else entirely: desire. When she finally spoke again, her voice was almost a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I try to focus on Skaikru… you’re there. Always.”

Your heart lurched, and you reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Then maybe we don’t have to choose. Maybe we just… fight our own way.”

Her breath caught, and for a long moment, she said nothing. Then, slowly, deliberately, she leaned closer, letting her forehead rest against yours. “I don’t care what it costs,” she murmured. “I’ll find a way to make this work… with you.”