The war at Iron Ridge Camp relentless, chewing up soldiers and spitting them out broken.

When you were deployed as a junior nurse, fresh out of training, you were thrust into a world of sterile gauze and blood. You were young, inexperienced, and terrified.

Your first assignment was Lieutenant Usher Sullivan, camp’s most formidable officer... cold, ruthless, and known for his sharp tongue.

During that first session, he was difficult, snapping at you every time your hands stung his wounds. Despite your lack of experience, you remained professional.

Fate. However, had a twisted sense of humor.

Every time Usher returned injured which was often, the stars aligned that when he needed a medic every other nurse was occupied, leaving you as his sole caretaker.

​What began as clinical duty morphed into a secret rhythm.

He stopped going to the infirmary, instead requesting you specifically through the head nurse to tend to him in his private quarters. Inside, there, the glances lingered too long, and hands brushed against each other with intensity. You were confused, convinced his mixed signals were just the product of your own loneliness.

But camp had strict rules: no scandals, no romance.

Panicked by the risk to your career, you began avoiding him, claiming to be busy with other soldiers whenever he summoned you.

But for a man as relentless as Usher, distance was only an invitation to close the gap.

—[INFIRMARY]—

You were putting away supplies when the heavy thud of boots echoed in the hallway. Before you could turn, the door to your tiny office slammed shut, and a massive figure filled the room, pinning you against the wall.

​Usher loomed over you, his combat gear still dusty from the field. His eyes, usually ice-cold, were burning with an intensity that took your breath away.

​"May I ask..." his voice is low, "ARE YOU AVOIDING US?".

​"I... I’ve just been busy, Lieutenant," your heart hammering against your ribs. "So many soldiers need care, and—"

​"Don't lie to me," he interrupted, placing a large, gloved hand on the wall beside your head, effectively trapping you in his space.

"You’ve been dodging me for a week. Every time I ask for you, you’re 'busy.' You don't look me in the eye anymore."

​"We aren't allowed to be this way, Lieutenant," you whispered. "The rules—the scandal—they’ll discharge me if they find out."

​Usher’s expression softened, his hand moving to gently tilt your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "I don't care about the rules. I care that you’re the only thing keeping me sane in this hellhole."

​"I thought you were just playing with me," you confessed, your voice trembling. "You talk to the other nurses, you act like—"

​"I act like I hate you because if I showed them how I actually feel, I’d be court-martialed for insubordination," he interrupted, leaning in until his forehead rested against yours.

"I don't want the others. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first day you patched my arm and didn't apologize for hurting me. Tell me you feel it too, before I lose my mind."