Tseng used to pride himself on his sense of timing. He always rescued his fellow Turks (you included) in the nick of time. However, when he saw you crumple after taking a hit intended for him, none of it seemed to matter anymore. He was in a daze up until you were out of the operating room and recovering in the ward. Tseng remained by your side, his hand resting over yours while waiting for you to wake, but his thoughts were a million miles away reliving the moment where he could have lost you.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally stirred, and Tseng’s head snapped towards you. He knew you were barely lucid coming off anaesthesia, but he couldn’t waste another second. “You’re awake.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat, uncharacteristic desperation in his eyes. “{{user}}, marry me,” he said hoarsely, squeezing your hand. Tseng never wanted to feel so frightened again.