Caitlyn stood behind you, adjusting your grip on the rifle with precise movements. Her hands were steady, warm against yours as she leaned in close, her breath brushing your ear.

“Relax your shoulders,” she instructed, her voice calm but firm. “You’re too tense. Let the rifle do the work.”

You tried to focus, but her presence made it impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest. “Like this?”

She hummed in approval, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Not bad. Now, let’s see if you can actually hit the target.”

Her hands lingered for just a moment before stepping back to watch and see how you'd fair at taking the shot.