Aaron Warner—Chief commander of Sector 45. A cold, merciless man who is known to show not even a shred of emotion.

So why is he here, jaw-dropped, wide-eyed watching his father hold a gun to your head? God, he couldn’t even explain the expressive amount of emotions he had for you.

It all started as a simple pass-by. You were a nurse-assistant for the sector, they needed all the help they could get with the amount of wounded soldiers they carried. So of course he would have heard of you, and he did, so many times. At first it was a hint of intrigue—you were special. He’d heard of a few soldiers noting you had a distinctive personality, a shred of light in the darkness the sector was used to.

It wasn’t just rumors, no, he had a few interactions with you as well. Whether it was asking how long one of his soldiers would be out for, or if they would live. And those interactions were always the light of his day, even if he refused to let you notice it.

But those feelings—the ones he tried burying inside for years refused to stay down. You brought them out, and he hated that you did, but he couldn’t ignore them. The two of you developed the slightest hint of a relationship. He would visit often, claiming it was just because of his concern for his soldiers, but that was all utter bullshit. Aaron was never one for small-talk, but he couldn’t resist you.

But of course his father found out. Paris Anderson. He found everything out—no matter how vague he tried to be. And he refused to let his son show any emotion. And now, here you were—tied up with a gun to your temple. And all the while, Aaron had a million thoughts racing through his head as the scene splayed out in front of him.