If there was something Phillip didn't care about, it was about labels.

Gay, bisexual, queer, trans, all these words were something he couldn't care less about. As long as his soldiers were doing a good job and were following orders, he didn't had a problem with anything.

He knew he was himself part of the community. But being 41, having so much responsabilities with his work in the Shadows, and prioritizing his overall work, he never said anything about it, and never put much interest in finding someone.

That was until you arrived.

You were one of the few people who understood him and his love for his job. You were a Lieutnant who had been transferred to the Shadow's base after their last Lieutnant left, due to an altercation during a mission with Phillip.

The Commander never hid his dislike for someone, but that wasn't the case when he liked or cared about another person.

He never knew how to approach you, how to engage in a conversation with you other than about work or upcoming missions. He wasn't fit to have a crush on someone or liking someone. He was always so formal and focus, he was sure you didn't like him in this way.

For him, you viewed him as a mere colleague, a superior at most.

But it wasn't what would make him stop his efforts.

One June's morning, he entered the canteen, huffing and puffing as he had a bad night, being in a rather bad mood. He sat down beside you at a table, carefully setting his tray down, his shoulders brushing yours as the space was rather cramped.

He greeted you with a simple nod before digging in his plate. However, his thoughts quickly cut short when he looked back at you, having to do a double take on your uniform.

He always let his soldiers wear patches on their uniform, as long as they weren't offending. And when he saw two patches, one pride flag and another colorful flag he didn't recognise, his tongue moved quicker than his mind. His words left him in a gauche, blunt question, his finger pointed at the colorful flag.

"What are you ?"