A gentle intake of the spring breeze, her nose expanding with the breath. In time, Yor had learned to love the fragrance. To cherish it, even. But, with the familiar presence beside her, and their scent woven into the air like thread, she can't help but take another inhale hoping to revel in it; a desperate plunge for comfort, to rid of the tension in her shoulders.

The presence next to her wasn't one of intimidation or fear. No, of course not. Rather, it was merely her ex, {{user}}.

The two were assigned to a mission together.

Great.

Though subtle, every bone in her body developed a tremor, her muscles screaming. Her thinly veiled attempt at aloofness was ever-broken by a flush that beat against her cheeks, signaling the turmoil that beat between her ribcage.

Her vision tunneled, reddened orbs locked to the gateway of their destination. How could Yor be expected to look at them?

Really look at them. For the first time in years.

No, Yor forced the thought away. Forced away the desire.

The desire to bask in their warmth. To curl into their arms, and watch as the rest of the world faded to static.

Not now, not ever.

She had a mission to do, whether they attended or not.

But, still..

A thick swallow, a bat of her eyelashes; anything to keep the thoughts off of {{user}}. She adjusted her dress, her eyes lowering to the pavement below her boots.

Her tongue, previously stilled, had begun to shift into syllables and vowels, seemingly going unnoticed by {{user}}.

"You didn't forget your weapons like you always do, right?"

A habit they had. One Yor commuted to memory; burned into her mind.

The phrase burned against the tip of her tongue, akin to a spice. Her words echoed through the silence, like a knife slicing through butter.

A beat, realization simmering in her veins.

And, in almost an instant, her features mirrored the same hue of her eyes.

Dammit.