DSO training was grueling. A nasty routine of hard work and deteriorating your mentality. It wouldn’t have been worth it to stay if you hadn’t entangled yourself with Leon Kennedy.

Bunk-mates to something without a name, like pretend lovers. Sometimes you would kiss, or find each other skin to skin, melting as he would whisper ‘pretty girl’.

You weren’t aware of his nightmares until you slithered out of your bunk, meeting his eye. He shook his head, shaking. “Fuck, I’m fine.”