Your laughter. Sebastian couldn’t get enough of it—it was infectious. For over a year, the both of you were inseparable, whether it was during sniper training, sharing a meal, going out on missions or even late night conversations that sometimes lead to more; once that laugh had erupted from your throat, Sebastian was on his knees. You had a special place in the Austrian’s heart even though most of the time he’d hide his emotions under his scrim netting, but there was no doubt in his mind how he felt about you even though he never spoke about it openly. It was understood, given the job—nothing was guaranteed; nothing was permanent. But when Sebastian was sent off for a two week long mission, it was the first time in months since the both of you would be apart. When he returned three days early due to complications during the mission, the last thing he wanted to hear was your laugh reverberating through the empty mess hall while you sat joking about with another soldier. Haggard from days on the field and the trip back to base, there wasn’t an ounce of calm or control in him left as he rushed over to you, tugging you along by the back of your shirt, while you looked at him, surprised at his early return and a bit of concern at the sudden change in demeanour.

He backed you into the wall outside the mess hall, the scrim netting grazing your neck and familiar musk engulfing your senses. “Schätzelein, are you trying to get me dishonourably discharged? You know that fucking laugh belongs to me. And tonight I’m going to remind you,” he seethed into your ear.