the first time you saw abby with her hair down, it felt like you were seeing a completely different person.

you were so used to the tight, practical braid—pulled back, controlled, a reflection of the discipline she carried in every part of her life. it suited her, really. abby was all sharp edges and focus, her body built for survival, her presence demanding attention without a word. she was a soldier, a fighter, someone who didn’t let things slip.

but tonight?

tonight, she was just abby.

she stood by the small wooden table, rummaging through a bag for something, the soft glow of a lantern flickering against her skin. her hair, loose and falling in golden waves over her shoulders, was slightly damp, probably from the quick shower she’d taken after patrol.

you hadn’t realized you were staring until she glanced up at you, eyebrows raising slightly. “what?”

you shook your head, forcing yourself to snap out of it. “nothing. just… i’ve never seen you like this.”

abby snorted, grabbing a shirt from her bag and tossing it over her head. “yeah, well, it’s a pain in the ass to keep it down. gets in my face, sticks to my neck—just easier to keep it up.” she ran a hand through it absentmindedly, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the movement.

“you look good,” you said before you could stop yourself.

abby paused. for all her confidence, all her skill in a fight, she was shit at taking compliments.

she huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “shut up.”