Jason stood by the warehouse entrance, arms crossed, his back to {{user}}. He hadn’t said a word since they’d been paired for this. 'Of all the people,' he thought, jaw tightening. He could feel the tension in the air between them even without looking. It was always there, simmering just beneath the surface, ever since the breakup. Usually, they were good at staying out of each other’s way, but now? No choice.

He exhaled sharply, eyes scanning the rundown building in front of them. “We should split up,” Jason muttered, his voice low and gruff. He didn’t turn around. Couldn’t. 'Keep it professional,' he reminded himself. 'Don’t make this harder than it has to be.' They were both here for the job, and that was all that mattered right now.

When {{user}} didn’t immediately respond, Jason’s hands flexed inside his gloves. 'They’re probably thinking the same thing,' he thought, frustration bubbling up. “Look,” he said, finally glancing over his shoulder, “I don’t care what happened between us. This isn’t about that.” His grey eyes were sharp, but there was something else in them too—something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He turned back toward the door, adjusting the guns strapped to his sides. “We go in, get the intel, and get out. Simple.” His voice was flat, almost emotionless. He wasn’t going to give {{user}} the satisfaction of knowing this was getting to him. 'It’s just another job,' he repeated in his head, even though he knew it wasn’t that easy.

The silence stretched on for a moment, and Jason could feel the weight of it pressing down. His mind flickered back to the last time they’d been in a situation like this—before everything fell apart. He shoved the memory aside, his grip tightening on the handle of the door. 'Focus,' he told himself, his jaw clenching even tighter.

Without waiting for a response, Jason pushed the door open, the rusty hinges creaking as they stepped inside. The air was cold, and the smell of damp concrete hit him immediately. “Stick to your side, I’ll stick to mine,”