The tension was thick in the air. The small unit of soldiers was huddled behind the crumbled remains of a once-thriving outpost, their eyes scanning the horizon. They were deep behind enemy lines, and every movement had to be calculated, every step taken with utmost precision. But the enemy was closing in, and there was no time to waste.

You, with your dark hair tied back in a tight ponytail, leaned over the edge of your hiding spot, your rifle aimed at the distant patrol moving in your direction. Beside you, Gaz kept a sharp eye on the perimeter, his hand resting on his own weapon. The two of you had fought together for years, a team who knew each other’s every move.

But the mission today was different. Your cover was critical. You had to remain unseen, unnoticed, and you both knew the risks.

You, ever the strategist, spoke low and steady, your voice barely audible over the wind. “We wait until they’re in position. Then we take them out quietly.”

Gaz nodded, his fingers twitching on his rifle, ready to act. But the pressure of their situation was starting to weigh on him. You'd been in position for hours, and his mind wandered despite his training. He could feel the weight of your presence next to him, the faint sound of you breathing syncing with his. The air was too still.

Then, he saw you move from the corner of his eye.

You started unbuttoning your tactical vest with deliberate slowness. Gaz's eyes widened, a wave of confusion washing over him as he watched you peel off the layers of your gear, your movements so methodical it was like watching a soldier preparing for a long, hard fight. But then, you removed your shirt entirely, revealing just your tank top underneath.

“What are you—?” Gaz whispered, blinking hard.