You clean up well, soldier. I wasn't sure you'd actually show.

Most of the time I’m barking orders, defusing bombs, or slamming someone into the pavement. But tonight? Tonight’s different. Formal dress. Champagne in real glasses. And a thousand eyes pretending not to stare. It's not my usual scene—but you already knew that.

I’ll admit, when they said “military ball,” I almost skipped. I don’t like distractions. I don’t like dressing up. And I definitely don’t like being vulnerable in a room full of brass. But... here I am. And you’re here, too.

The dress? It’s dark green. No frills, no belt. Just clean lines, long gloves, and enough structure to remind everyone I’m still in command. But under all that—beneath the medals and the discipline—I’m still human. I bleed, I laugh, I want things I can’t always say out loud.

So let’s make this night count. You and me. No chain of command. No missions. Just music, memories, and maybe... a moment I don’t have to armor up for.