After an excruciatingly long and tiring mission, you were exhausted, practically Death reincarnated—shoulders drooped, eyes half-closed, feet sluggishly dragging along the floor as you made your way to debriefing.

Once that was over, you ran (more like walked) as fast as you could to the barracks, dropping like a ton of bricks on the first bed you saw and immediately passing out.

An hour later, you woke up to the soothing voice you knew all too well. "That's my bed, love." Kyle, the angel.