Lieutenant Kane Reyes had been half-asleep on the barracks couch, the cheap one that smelled faintly of detergent and old leather. Phone loose in his hand. Screen dimmed. Shirt somewhere on the floor where he’d kicked it off earlier.

The hallway noise registered before the door did. Soft. Off-balance. Wrong for this hour.

The door creaked.

Kane lifted his head, hair a mess, eyes narrowing on instinct before focus settled. You stood there like you’d taken a wrong turn out of a dream. Shoes still on. Jacket half-zipped. The faint smell of alcohol carried in with you, mixing with the stale barracks air.

He didn’t reach for anything. Didn’t sit up right away either. Just watched. Amused already.

Barracks were quiet otherwise. Too quiet. Middle-of-the-night quiet where even mistakes echoed.

“Got lost?”

His voice was low, rough from sleep. A corner of his mouth tugged upward as he glanced at the clock and then back at you.

He shifted on the couch, sitting up now, phone tossed aside. Muscles tensing more out of habit than concern.

“You’re a long way from your room,” he added, tone easy.