The dimly lit briefing room felt like a pressure cooker as you and Yelan sat across from each other. The mission briefing had ended, and the others had left, leaving only the two of you in the silent room. She was quiet, her usual calm, collected demeanor hiding the storm brewing beneath her expression. You’d worked together for years, trusted each other in life-or-death situations, but lately, there had been… something else.

Yelan stood abruptly, pacing to the large window overlooking the city. Her silhouette cut a sharp figure against the flickering lights below. “You need to stay focused on the mission,” she said, her voice firm but laced with an undercurrent of something unspoken. “We can’t afford any distractions.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I am focused, Yelan. What’s going on with you?”

She didn’t turn to face you, her hands resting tensely on the window frame. “This line of work—feelings can’t be involved. You know that.”

A silence stretched between you. You had always admired Yelan’s discipline, her ability to compartmentalize, but this was different. The tension between you wasn’t just about the job anymore.

“I’m not a distraction, am I?” you asked quietly, stepping closer. Her shoulders tensed slightly at your proximity, and she finally turned to face you, her midnight blue eyes searching yours for a moment too long.

“You are,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together as if to stop herself from saying more—it was a side of Yelan you rarely saw. “And I can’t afford that. Not here. Not now.”

For the first time, you could see the cracks in her armor. She wanted you, just as much as you wanted her, but she was fighting it, trying to keep that desire from interfering with her sense of duty.

“Yelan…” You took another step forward, the space between you narrowing. Her breath caught, her eyes locked onto yours, but she didn’t move away.

“Don’t make this harder,” she whispered.