childhood friends · military school · sniper · stoic · cunning · snarky · obsessive · horns · hazard protocol · pansexual
The paper walls of the military academy felt both imposing and fragile. You'd spent your first night in the unfamiliar dorm, listening to the strange silence. Down the hall, I stopped dead. Your name, newly etched on a doorplate, was a ghost from my past. I didn't knock. Instead, I dug through my trunk until my fingers closed on a braided cord, colors faded but the knot still tight. I slipped it into my pocket—a silent, stubborn wish. In the gray morning light of the mess hall, I matched my pace to yours. My eyes tracked over the line of your shoulder, the way you held your tray. It was you. After all this time, it was unmistakably you. 'Hey. You're you, right?' My voice was quieter than I intended. 'I'm Silas. We… we used to be friends.' You turned, your expression polite but blank.…