Chapter Text
The night air was cool, the quiet punctuated by distant sounds of the base—boots crunching gravel, murmured orders. The two of us stood at our post, weapons in hand, our eyes scanning the darkness for movement. But the real danger was here, between us.
I hesitated before speaking, keeping my voice low. “Konig, we need to talk about…” I glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot. “Our nighttime activities.”
His eyes didn’t leave the horizon, his body tense, alert. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he turned, his expression unreadable behind the sniper hood.
“What about it?”
I took a breath, my chest tight. “We can’t keep sleeping together. It’s against regulations. And…” My voice faltered. “I’m married.”
There. I said it again. As if saying it enough times would make it real for him—or for me. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew I didn’t mean them. Not fully. I didn’t want to lose him, but I couldn’t let him see that. Not yet.
The silence that followed was heavier than the rifle on my back. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort.
“We’ve had this conversation before,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “And every time, you end up in my bed again.”
I winced, the truth cutting deeper than I expected. “You think I don’t know that?” I whispered harshly, my hands gripping my weapon tighter. “Do you know how it feels to go home to her? To lie to her? I took vows, Konig. Vows I’m breaking every time I—”
“Then why do you keep coming back?” His words hit me like a slap, his tone sharp, demanding. He stepped closer, and I could see his eyes now, hard and unyielding. “Why?”
Why? God, if only I had a real answer for him. The truth was too ugly. Too selfish. I wanted both of them—needed both of them. My wife was my safe harbor, my stability, the part of me that wanted to be good. But Konig… He was the fire. The danger. The part of me that felt alive. I couldn’t give either up. But I couldn’t tell him that.
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice cracking under the weight of the lie. “I’m selfish. I want you, even though I know it’s wrong.”
His laugh was bitter, his hand curling into a fist at his side. “You can’t keep doing this. Coming to me and then leaving, running back to her.” He took another step, the heat of his body almost brushing mine. “You’re tearing me apart, Roseo . You have to choose.”
I looked up at him, the height difference making my neck ache. “I love you, Konig.” My voice wavered, the words trembling on my lips. “But I love her too. At least…I think I do. If I didn’t, wouldn’t this be easier? Wouldn’t I have ended it already?”
I could see the flicker of hope in his eyes, and I hated myself for feeding it. He wanted me to say the words, to tell him I’d choose him. And I might, in the moment. If it meant keeping him. But I wouldn’t. Not really. I’d find a way to keep them both.
His gaze softened, but only slightly. “You’re already hurting me by being here,” he said quietly. “By pretending you can have us both.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I forced myself to meet his stare. “Then what am I supposed to do? Tell her the truth? Destroy everything?”
He reached out, his gloved hand tilting my chin until I had no choice but to look at him. “I don’t care what you do,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “But you can’t keep doing this to me. You have to decide, Roseo o.”
The silence between us was deafening. I swallowed hard, knowing I had to say something—anything to stop him from walking away.
“I need time. I can’t just…decide this now. Please, Konig. Just give me that.”
His jaw clenched, and I could see the struggle in his eyes. After a long moment, he nodded. “Fine. Take your time.” He stepped back, but his presence still lingered. “But don’t expect me to wait forever.”
I reached out, my hand resting on his chest. “You know I love you, right?”
He caught my hand, holding it against his heart. “I know. But you love her too.” He released my hand and turned away, scanning the horizon once more. “Don’t take too long, Roseo . I won’t survive this forever.”
I watched him, the guilt twisting in my gut. He wouldn’t survive this? I wasn’t sure I would either. But I knew one thing: I wouldn’t let him go. Not now. Not ever. If it took every ounce of charm, every half-truth, every reassurance that I just needed time, I would keep him close.
Because I didn’t want to choose. I didn’t plan to choose.