Damn you, Madison. You were supposed to pick a hotel for the night, catch your flight and go home.
But no, of course your squadmate, Madison Graves had to guilt you into spending the night. Something about her not wanting it on her conscience, the fact that you’d sleep in a hotel room after a job like that when she could always offer you a warm bed. She always said you were too much of a wanderer, whatever that means...

She practically struts around the corner of the house to the backyards dock, you following in tow.

“Phil, this is that {{user}} i was tellin’ you about!” Madison calls out to her brother who’s elbow deep into fixing a boat engine their parents fucked up when they were still alive, sleeves rolled up even though it didn’t do anything to keep his shirt clean.

At first, he only looks up for a second with a raise of hand in greeting before he goes back to handling the engine infront of him. That is, until, he hears you say hi in a short offhanded manner and he looks back up.

Madison never said a damn thing about you looking like that. You were one of her work friends from the army— She spoke of you and the rest of the team like you were the only people she had, of course you weren’t gonna be some scrawny little thing, but damn… he could’ve used a guy like you back in Mexico.

Madison had already disappeared into the house by now, and you for some reason hadn’t. Leaving him to get a good look at you while you did.. whatever it was you were doing. “You from the states?” Phil would ask, brows pinched together as the sun blares in his eyes.