To say you and Phillip were friends was beyond an understatement at this point.

Some might say you took ‘Phil Graves’ a little too literally.

You’d known Phil since you’d moved to his state as a teenager, becoming best friends on the spot until you graduated and it became more than just friends once you enrolled into college. Even when he enlisted and started his own private military, you were his getaway.

You’d drove 12hrs once just to take him in the back of your car outside of some safehouse downstate once because of how bad he claimed to miss you after a rough mission. Little did he know, you enlisted the last time you saw one another.

And here you were, standing infront of him, resisting the urge to burst into fits of laughter as the colour drains from his face from the very sight of you wearing his insignia on your sleeve. “Oh, Good lord, I am not the one today!” He hisses at you with a pointed finger in your direction, eyes narrowing as he lowers his voice as not to alert the other shadows nearby, “Christ on a crutch {{user}}, are you trying to send me to an early grave?!”