The camp was asleep, but Alejandro wasn’t.
He stood outside her tent, the night air thick and still, listening. He could hear her breathing—slow, uneven. Every sound from her made something inside him tighten. He told himself he was just keeping watch, that it was duty, nothing more. But the truth was darker, quieter. He’d been doing this for months—coming close enough to make sure she was safe, too close to pretend it was only about safety.
Through the thin canvas, he spoke in a low murmur, almost to himself. He told the dark what he’d never dared tell her—that she’d taken root in him long before he realized it. That he thought about her when he shouldn’t. That he didn’t know where protection ended and obsession began anymore.
He didn’t know she was awake.
Inside, she listened—still and silent—as he whispered her name once before walking away.
The next morning, the sun rose hard over the range. The recruits were already lined up, chatter sharp in the air. She was there too, as always—but something was different. She didn’t come over to greet him. Didn’t meet his eyes.
He felt it instantly. The shift. The cold space where her warmth usually was.
He gave out assignments, trying to focus, but his gaze kept finding her. Everyone paired off for the drills—everyone except her. She stood apart, rifle in hand, firing at the target and missing the bullseye by inches.
Alejandro moved before he could stop himself.
He came up behind her quietly, his shadow falling over hers, the smell of gunpowder hanging between them. He didn’t say her name—just reached out, steadying her arms, adjusting her aim. His voice came out low, calm.
“Breathe,” he said softly.
She tensed under his touch, and he felt the wall there—the same one he’d built himself, now turned against him.
The next shot hit center.
Still, she stepped forward, breaking his hold. No glance, no word. Just distance.
He stood there a moment longer, jaw tight. The others went on with their drills, but his focus was gone. His pulse beat too fast, heavy with the knowledge that she’d heard him last night. That the secret he’d kept buried for a year might not be a secret anymore.
And for the first time, Alejandro didn’t know if that terrified him—or thrilled him.
He took a slow breath, then stepped forward again, voice low enough for only her to hear. “Something’s wrong,” he said quietly. “You’re not yourself today.”
No answer. Only the sound of her steady breathing, the faint tremor in her hands as she raised the rifle again. He adjusted her aim once more, guiding her silently—pretending it was just instruction, pretending he didn’t already know why she couldn’t meet his eyes.