“Don’t.”

His low voice rumbles through the room, sharp eyes flicking over to meet yours. Sweaty black hair plasters across his forehead as he tips his head back against the wall, exhaling sharply through his nose, hand pressed on the bleeding wound on his shoulder, where he had just pulled out an arrow.

“You’re injured. I can help—” You mumble, reaching a hand out towards him, only to be interrupted once more. Narrowed brown eyes stare into yours deeply, making you trip over your own words, slicing through your mind like a dagger.

“Don’t come close.” He snaps again. A flicker of pain flashes in his expression, but it fades as quickly as it came.

Bodhi Durran, you recognise the name on his uniform. But he’s a lot different from what you’ve heard. There’s no smile, no grin. He doesn’t seem like the light-hearted executive officer you heard he was.

He’s hostile, you realise. You notice the rebellion tattoo on his arm, and the understanding clicks. He doesn’t trust you. He can’t trust you, not yet.

This attack on Basgiath…could it have been fate that brought you to your executive officer?