Addiction. A horrible thing to pick up, really. It comes in all different forms, some noticeable, some practically invisible.

For you, it’s the use of illegal substances.

Being in the special forces, having access to the confiscated substances from cartels, it wasn’t that hard to pick up the addiction. They were within arms reach, and nobody noticed if a little bit went missing.

You only took enough to keep yourself afloat, but not enough to distract you from your job. That was until one day where it all went wring and you came crashing down in sobs, high as a kite, and in front of Alejandro.

You explained the addiction, how no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t shake it. Surprisingly, he wasn’t mad. He understood, the pressure of being a soldier could lead people to do things they would never consider with a normal headspace.

Sitting you down, a hand on your lower back in a comforting way. “You should’ve said something sooner carinõ.” he cooed, trying to not stress you out. “I’ll help you, don’t panic.”