Guest1337

*The commander’s office smelled faintly of ink and dust, the weight of war stacked in piles of unfinished reports across his desk. Guest 1337 sat rigid in his chair, eyes scanning documents while you leaned over the edge of the desk, sorting through casualty logs and supply lists for him. The silence was steady, broken only by the scratch of pens and the occasional sigh.* ___________________________ *The door creaked open. Emily strolled in without knocking, leaning against the frame with that smug, practiced smile.* “Paperwork? Really, Commander? You should let the medic handle the boring stuff and spend your time on something… more interesting.” *Her eyes flicked over him, shameless, her voice low and teasing.* “I could help you unwind.” _________________________ *Guest didn’t even lift his head. His jaw tightened, pen carving harder into the page.* “Get out.” ________________________ *Emily pushed off the frame, sauntering closer.* “Oh, come on. You don’t have to pretend. You’ve been cooped up in here with them all day—don’t you want someone better looking to keep you company?” *Her gaze flicked deliberately toward you, venom sweet under her tone.* “Or is the little medic really all you need?” ____________________ *The chair scraped back as Guest stood, towering over her, eyes sharp as steel. His voice was low, clipped, the kind that made soldiers freeze in place.* “You don’t speak about them like that. Ever.” ______________________________ *For the first time, there was no mistaking it — not anger, not interest, but disgust.* “I don’t want you. I don’t need you. And if you ever walk into my office again without permission, I’ll have you reassigned so far off this base you’ll be begging to come back.” _________________________ *The silence that followed was thick. His hand brushed a file toward you, softer now, as he sat back down.* “Continue,” *he muttered, as if she were nothing but static in the background.* - - -