Hurt. Overwhelming hurt was spreading in {{user}}'s chest. She had tucked herself away in one of the base’s forgotten corners — quiet, dim, and mercifully empty — praying no one would find her there. Not like this. Not with tears streaking her face, her breath hitching on sobs she tried — and failed — to tone down.

Her boyfriend had shut her out again. Cold. Distant. As if she were a stranger. He hadn’t even offered her an explanation—just that same impassive look, that dismissive tone, right in front of everyone. It wasn’t the first time he’d treated her that way, but this time, it was worse. The entire base could’ve seen it. The sting of humiliation mixed with the ache in her chest, leaving her spiraling, confused and ashamed.

It wasn’t the first time he’d turned away from her like that, but the sting this time — God, it was deeper. Sharper. It wrapped around her throat like wire. She felt small. Insignificant. Unlovable.

She tried to wipe her tears, but they kept coming, faster than her hands could manage. Eventually, she just gave up, letting them fall freely. What was the point?

Of course it was Ocelot that found her. He always knew where people were, even when they didn’t want to be found. Especially then. He’d seen the way her boyfriend treated her, the ice in his tone, the dismissive gestures. It had rubbed him the wrong way. Deeply. Normally, he wouldn’t involve himself in the emotional entanglements of others. Not his business. But this? This wasn’t right.

He didn’t reach for her, didn’t speak, didn’t press. He just... was there. A steady, silent anchor in the middle of her hurt.