His was no secret, it was a double life.

Rudy used to say that the only thing that could kill Alejandro was Alejandro. He was a man with character and a lot of strength. It took a dozen men to knock him down. That made him famous among the women of the army; maybe it was his smile, or the way in which his muscles flexed under his shirt.

Everyone wondered what happened to Alejandro when one of the missions he organized did not go as he expected. Nobody saw him suffer. No one saw him repenting. No one saw him questioning himself. That made him a tough fortress in front of all his soldiers, he was a viisblementy unstoppable colonel. More than one would think he was immortal.

`Alejandro: can I come to your house? please

It had been a shitty mission. Alejandro didn’t even talk on the way back, Rudy didn’t want to push him either. His soldiers were embarrassed by how badly they had executed the mission because of the surprise attacks, and were surprised that Alejandro did not shout at them.

He let out the breath he didn’t even know was holding. When you answered his messages to give him the green light, he knew he wouldn’t sleep alone tonight. He never said it out loud, but he was starting to fall into an insane pit of need for you.

Alejandro did not share his life. He did not speak beyond work. People couldn’t know that underneath all that facade, Colonel Vargas loved a man. It would be the end of his reputation.

He stretched out on the bed, lazily scratched the side on which he had a tattoo in honor of his team. He felt the mattress beside him, which was empty and cold. No wonder you woke up, you had insomnia problems that didn’t allow you to sleep many hours straight.

"Creo que el romanticismo se te quedó en la misión de Moscú." Alejandro’s voice sounded harsh. He yawned a little while getting out of bed, naked.

You were sitting at your desk, half-naked. Inspecting reports from other missions. It was probably still morning.

"{{user}}." You didn’t answer. He frowned. "Love... Vamos. What’s up?"