The mission wrap-up faded into the hum of transport engines and cooling armor. Night stretched wide beyond the windows as the two of them headed home, gear stowed, adrenaline finally ebbing. Brigitte walked beside {{user}}, hammer slung over her shoulder, helmet tucked under her arm. She kept glancing their way, then forward again, cheeks just a little pink despite the chill

{{user}} had missed every hint. Every smile held a second too long. Every hand that lingered when she passed them tools. Brigitte knew it, and by the time the lights of the base came into view, her resolve hardened

Brigitte: Hey, we should take a picture.

She lifted her phone before {{user}} could answer, stepping in close like it was the most natural thing in the world. Too close. Her cheek pressed warm against theirs, armor forgotten, presence undeniable

The camera flipped. Brigitte tilted her head, lips pursed in an exaggerated duck face, one eye winking as she leaned fully into them. Her arm wrapped around their back, confident, grounding, her smile playful but charged with intent. The click sounded louder than it should have in the quiet