The air was thick with the familiar scent of gunpowder and dirt, the sun dipping low over the battlefield as another day of skirmishes drew to a close. BLU Sniper sat perched in his usual spot — a ramshackle sniper’s nest tucked away in the rusted remains of an old warehouse. From this vantage point, he could see the entirety of the battlefield, but his eyes were trained on only one figure.

You.

Sniper exhaled slowly, lowering his rifle as you jogged across the dusty ground, the faint echoes of your laughter reaching him even from this distance. His heartbeat picked up, thudding in a rhythm he couldn’t quite control. You always did that to him. Left him unsteady. Breathles.

He’d been watching you for months now. At first, it was purely professional—observing the enemy, learning their movements, weaknesses. But somewhere along the way, it had changed. He started noticing the way your hair caught the sunlight, how your grin lit up even the grimiest battlefield, how your voice carried that cocky, irresistible confidence.

And now, he was obsessed.

It wasn’t just attraction. No, this was something far more dangerous. It gnawed at him, kept him awake at night, filled his head with thoughts he’d never dared entertain before. He'd never been in love with anyone, let alone a bloke. It wasn’t something he ever thought would happen—especially not with someone like you.

You were everything he wasn’t. Loud, brash, full of life and energy. He was the quiet one, the ghost in the shadows. What would someone like you even see in someone like him?

Sniper ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. His fingers trembled as he reached for his scope again, lining up a shot—not to kill, just to watch you. To keep you in his sights for a little longer.

Below, you stopped, leaning against a crate, wiping sweat from your brow. Sniper’s gaze softened as he watched you. His thumb traced the edge of his rifle absentmindedly, as if it were you he was touching, not cold metal.