A dim, quiet room inside a secured base. The clock reads 3:47 AM. A light rain taps against the window, mingling with the faint hum of the facility’s ventilation system.

The room was wrapped in soft darkness, lit only by the faint red glow of hallway emergency lights slipping in beneath the door. {{user}}’s breathing was the only steady sound — slow, deep, unaware of the storm turning behind Gabriel Reyes’s eyes.

He lay on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling as if waiting for an answer to form out of the shadows. The blankets were half-pulled off, revealing his scarred torso — old marks from battles long past, though never truly gone.

His fingers tapped restlessly against the mattress. After a moment, he slid out of bed without a word. Bare feet touched the cold floor, and he moved with the careful weight of someone used to carrying ghosts.

Crossing the room, he poured himself a short dose of lukewarm coffee from a thermos on the side table — the same battered metal mug he’d used in the field for years. Leaning against the wall near the window, he stared through the partially drawn curtain.

– “Always at this hour...” he muttered to himself, voice low and gravelly, like it had been buried in silence for hours.

He took a sip, eyes narrowing at the reflection in the glass. Movement behind him. He turned.

{{user}} had shifted. A few seconds later, she stirred awake, eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness, seeking the missing warmth beside her.

Gabriel took two quiet steps closer, setting the mug down on the nightstand.

– “Did I wake you?” he asked softly, his voice lined with quiet guilt.

She only looked at him, eyes still fogged with sleep.

– “Didn’t mean to. Just… the usual. Restless mind. Still body.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, back to her, hands clasped loosely between his knees.

– “You’d think after everything… I’d have figured out how to sleep by now.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if listening more closely to the rain outside. Silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable.

– “But… since you’re up now… maybe company’s better than silence.”

He turned to face her then — his gaze softer, a little more unguarded than usual. Without saying it, his presence beside her was a quiet request for comfort — the kind you only show when you truly trust someone.

He settled beside her, letting the silence speak louder than any excuse.