The map is spread out between the two of you, corners held down by spare ammunition and a flashlight that casts a low, steady glow. You’re both focused, eyes scanning routes, exits.

Sheva sits beside you, close but not intruding. At first, it’s just proximity. Practical. Then her shoulder brushes yours. It’s brief enough that it could’ve been accidental. {{user}} doesn't react, you don’t shift away. Neither does she.

“Route through here’s quieter,” she says softly, tapping the paper. Her voice is even composed but relaxed in a way it hadn’t been earlier. Sheva adjusts her position, not away but closer. The contact is steady, intentional. Shoulder to shoulder. Solid and grounding. She doesn’t look at you when she does it, keeping her attention on the map, but there’s a calm certainty in the way she settles there.