The village streets were quiet under a gentle snowfall, the late afternoon sun already hidden behind thick clouds. Damian stood near a checkpoint, eyes subtly following a pair walking along the far edge of the path.
Anya Petrova… and that man again.
He didn't know his name, but he knew one thing: he didn't trust him.
They walked side by side, their conversation easy, steps matching like they had done this many times before. Too many.
Damian's jaw tightened as he leaned just slightly to get a better view, his gloved fingers unconsciously curling tighter around the strap of his rifle.
Something about the way they moved, how close they walked—it set him on edge.
And then it happened.
Just ahead of them, a gust of wind kicked up a scatter of snow. Anya flinched, reaching toward her face as if something had hit her eye.
The man moved quickly.
Damian squinted, watching the man gently take her wrist, preventing her from rubbing her eye. Then he tilted her chin upward with delicate precision and leaned closer—too close.
From Damian's distance, it looked like a kiss.
His chest went tight.
He looked away.
Not because it mattered. Not because it meant anything. But because something inside him stirred, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.
Before he could even make sense of it, a voice snapped him back.
"Graves!"
He straightened instantly, turning toward the approaching officer. "Sir."
"Back to the outpost. You're needed."
He gave one last glance toward the path.
They were already gone.
---
Anya's POV
The snow flurry had come out of nowhere. One small flake stung as it slipped into her eye, making her gasp and reach up instinctively.
Before she could rub it, Alek caught her wrist.
"Don't," he said gently. "You'll only make it worse."
She blinked up at him as he tilted her chin.
"Alek, I'm fine—"
"Stay still." His voice was patient, almost teasing.
And then, with a soft breath, he blew against her eye.
The cold disappeared in an instant.
She blinked again and laughed under her breath. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," he said, letting go of her hand with a mock bow. "What would you do without me?"
"Hopefully not go blind."
He chuckled, and they continued walking—unaware of the eyes that had seen the moment, and misunderstood it entirely.