Addiction. A dangerous word, but one that defined everything about you. The pull between you and Alejandro was never about love, it was more intoxicating. He knew it could destroy you both, yet he couldn’t seem to walk away. Each time he thought he’d had enough, he was pulled back into your orbit.

He'd learned to stay in control in the field. He'd been trained to handle danger, calculated decisions, and unflinching discipline. Yet, when it came to you, all that control slipped away.

He could lie to himself, convince himself that this wasn’t real, that you would never be his, but there was always the nagging truth that dug at him. You were never his home. That place belonged to someone else, someone who wore his ring and lived in the life he’d built for himself.

But you? You were a dangerous escape, a secret indulgence in a life he couldn't be fully honest about.

It was late, past midnight, and the rain was relentless outside. He didn’t knock, never did. He stood there, soaked from the downpour, his clothes sticking to his skin like a constant reminder of the distance between him and everything else.

His hand was already on the door when he came back to reality, shaking the thoughts away. This wasn’t right. But here he was again. He didn’t ask for permission anymore, didn’t have to. Your place was a temporary refuge, a place where he wasn’t Alejandro Vargas, the loyal officer or the man with responsibilities. Here, he was simply… Alejandro.

“A warm bath would be nice,” he said, his voice flat. It wasn’t excitement that laced his words, it was exhaustion.

He wasn’t sure if it was the rain soaking through his clothes or the weight of what he was doing, but when he looked at you, all the discomfort faded away. In his eyes, you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.