Rex has been in fights before—plenty of them. But this? This is different. Not because of the mission, not because of the danger. It’s different because of you.

You move like you own the fight, sharp and effortless, every strike controlled. He should be focused on covering you, on finishing this job, but his mind keeps slipping. Keeps catching on the way your body moves, the way the flickering light catches your face, the way every breath between you is just a little too charged.

Then you glance back at him, eyes locking onto his, and something shifts. The fight, the mission—it all fades into the background for just a second too long. His breath is uneven, his grip on his explosives just a little too tight.

The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk, but there’s something darker behind it, something real. His voice drops low, rough with something unsaid—

“Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this.”