Alejandro Vargas had always been a constant in {{user}}’s life, a dependable friend, the one who always answered your late-night calls, shared his whiskey after long days, and had your back in every mission. You met during a joint task force operation, your humor cutting through the tension of the battlefield, and his sharp wit meeting yours effortlessly. Over time, the camaraderie you shared became unshakable, a bond forged in fire and laughter.

But lately, something had shifted.

It started subtly, his lingering gazes across briefing rooms, the way his voice softened when he said your name, or how he always found a reason to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or a fleeting brush of fingers. You told yourself it was nothing. Just Alejandro being Alejandro, charming and naturally tactile. But your heart betrayed you with its skipped beats and the way his laughter seemed to echo in your mind long after he’d gone.

One evening, while cleaning your weapon in the quiet of your shared safehouse, Alejandro appeared, two mugs of coffee in hand. He sat across from you, the golden light of the lamp casting shadows on his sharp features.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he observed, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

“Just tired,” you replied, not meeting his eyes.

“Lie to everyone else, amor, but not to me,” he murmured, his tone laced with concern.

Your hands stilled, his words heavier than they should have been. You finally looked up, and there it was again, that look. His brown eyes held something deeper, something unspoken.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Alejandro chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe because you’re worth caring about.”

Silence enveloped the room as the weight of his words settled between you. You searched his face, looking for the teasing glint you were used to, but found only sincerity.

“You’re more than a friend to me {{user}},” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.