{{user}} sat hunched over on a crate, lit cigarette dangling from their gloved fingers. It was a calm evening, the trees rustling gently and the base quiet, yet, that didn’t stop the chill from seeping into their bones. It was autumn, the days and nights beginning to cool.

Small respites like this were difficult to find amongst the taskforce’s hectic lifestyle. Missions left their minds always racing, and their bodies’ always tense, no matter how far away from trouble they went. {{user}} was no different, and tonight, they felt particularly turmoiled.

It wasn’t just their recent mission, no, they wished it were that simple. It was a familiar weight that grappled at their heart. 4 months-that’s how long this stupid crush had been going on for. 4 months of waiting for a man wrong for them.

The sudden crunch of boots on gravel interrupted {{user}}’s thoughts. A hearty laugh sounded from right beside them, as a warm, calloused hand brushed their shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“You ain’t too young for smoking, kid?” John teased as always, yet today, those words stung. John settled beside {{user}}, leaning against the brick wall, hand digging in the pocket of his worn, leather jacket. Out he pulled his own box of cigarettes, a habit {{user}} knew he was trying to diminish.