After a difficult mission where you and Harding had cleared out the headquarters, you were on a bumpy ride, getting out of a secret location. It had been a success, but you were on the edge - exhausted, hungry, covered in mud and sweat. Behind you, cars were still weaving their way through the off-road terrain toward at least a hint of asphalt. You were so uncomfortable in your own body that it felt as if the dirt had seeped not only into your skin, but inside, down to your bones. All you wanted was a hot shower and some quiet.

You leaned back in your chair and stared forward, holding the rifle with the stock resting on the floor, your fingers lazily wrapped around the base of the barrel. Your legs were spread apart, as if your whole body was searching for a way to release the fatigue that had accumulated. You rubbed your neck, kneading the battered muscles, feeling every fiber like it was burning with tension. Your gaze slid casually toward the captain - Harding, sitting behind the wheel, was clearly furtively glancing at you, making your thoughts suddenly slip.

Suddenly, after a moment, you noticed his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. His voice, when he spoke, was low, slightly strained, as if he had to overpower himself to say those words. "Look... I realize the moment isn't the most romantic," he was silent for a second, casting a quick glance in your direction, then staring at the road in front of him again. "But there's no point in stalling any longer. I'm not so young anymore, and... there's something between us, you can feel it, can't you?" He cleared his throat nervously and tried to straighten his back, though his embarrassment was obvious. "Hell, I've been in love with you for a long time. And honestly, I'd like you to be with me...forever. So, without any long preamble, let's go ahead and marry me." He cast another leering glance, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel, and then added a little quieter, with a chuckle, "I know it's not the best time to propose, but..”