Later that day, the duo found themselves in their base, hidden away near the western borders of Russia. After the failed assassination attempt, they knew they had to be more alert than ever. The Russian soldiers were aware of their presence, and probably on their trail. Even inside their camp, there was anything but peace. The sound of gunshots echoed in the background.
Alyn opened her utility belt's first aid pocket, pulled out a small cotton ball and dipped it in antiseptic solution. She lifted it out and dabbed it over Ryan's wound.
"I'm really sorry, Knight..." she whispered, staring at his unconscious figure, eyes filled with worry. "I'm going to have to unmask you. I just hope you'll understand."
She stretched her arms out and slowly pulled his mask off. Somehow, his face looked rather familiar, but she couldn't place it. He was a 20-something year old man – around Alyn's age – and, as much as she regretted thinking it, rather handsome. He had a clean shave, and a somewhat obvious scar on his cheek. She figured he must have got it thanks to the war.
She cleared her throat, maintaining focus on the task at hand—cleansing the wound on his right side. The gash, although lengthy, mercifully avoided the need for stitches. With practiced precision, she gently disinfected the area, carefully removing any remnants of dirt or debris.
Pulling out a substantial bandage, she expertly wound it around his waist, ensuring a secure and protective covering for the healing cut. Each movement was deliberate, a testament to her skill honed through countless encounters with wounds and injuries.
As the last loop of the bandage secured in place, she allowed a moment of silent acknowledgment for the resilience that both of them had shown on the battlefield. The echoes of their shared struggles lingered in the air, even as the bandage symbolized a step towards recovery amidst the chaos of war.
She took a deep breath and stood up. "There you go, Knight. I guess that'll heal in a couple of days. I don't know if you'll be able to fight until then. Especially not up close. Long range won't be a problem, hopefully."
Ryan's violet eyes opened gradually, meeting Alyn's gaze with a mix of confusion and urgency. "Queen...? Where are we? Did we get him?"
Alyn, maintaining her focus, responded with a calm assurance. "We're in a safehouse. And no, I'm not too sure. The mission didn't go as planned, but I left a strategic sulfur dioxide bomb."
The gravity of their situation hung in the air, the shadows of their failed mission casting a temporary pall over the usually steely resolve in Ryan's eyes.
"Wait... where's my mask?!" Ryan gasped, covering his face frantically. He slowly sat up and met her gaze. Facingng her with his usual icy gaze, colder than the Russian environment, he cried. "Did you unmask me?!"
"Well... yes, but you were unconscious. You couldn't breathe. Besides, I don't know who you even are."
Ryan rose from his position, a determined set to his shoulders, and initiated a search for his grey mask. Spotting it near Alyn's feet, a moment of realization passed over him. "Oh... thank you."
"No problem.
Crouching down, he retrieved the mask, a silent acknowledgment of its significance in concealing identities and the necessity of their secrecy. With a fluid motion, he secured the mask in place, once again veiling his features in the familiar grey shroud of anonymity. The subtle exchange mirrored the rhythm of their covert lives, where even the act of donning a mask spoke volumes about the nature of their reality.351Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlDvhsUjLrC
|•|•|•|
A month passed since that fateful first joint mission. Their safehouse back in Europe stood as a temporary refuge, its walls echoing with gunshots from outside and the heavy silence of introspection. Alyn and Ryan, veiled in the shadows of their thoughts, found themselves confined within the confines of the room until they received their next mission.
The air carried the weight of a mission gone awry, and as they navigated the aftermath, the emotional currents between them shifted, revealing glimpses of vulnerabilities that lingered far beneath the surface of their stoic exteriors.351Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlr8VhANaKs
Their bosses were disappointed in them, almost as much as they themselves were. Although Ryan's wound had healed, and he was fit enough to fight as usual, he was not allowed to. Neither was Alyn, until they both trained together enough and had warmed up to each other.
"You seem exhausted, Queen. Non-stop training since our return. Take a break, have some water, or at least allow yourself a moment to breathe," he suggested, presenting two glasses – one full, the other half-filled.
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"I can't afford to rest. The more I train, the quicker I'll get my next mission. But I'll accept that offer. I'm thirsty," she replied, reaching for the full glass he held out. "By the way... you might want to close your eyes."
"The mask... of course," he responded, closing his eyes tightly.
As she sipped the water, the room seemed to exhale with a brief respite from the tension that clung to the air. The safehouse, usually a haven for strategic discussions, became a temporary sanctuary where vulnerabilities were acknowledged, even if sparingly.
"You know," he began, a thoughtful tone in his voice, "you don't have to ask me to close my eyes every time. You've already seen me without the mask."
Alyn paused, studying his masked face, a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Have I? It's hard to recognize someone when all you see is the mask, Knight."
"When you... accidentally struck me down the other day...? Then when you gave me first aid." he reminded.
"Oh... right. My bad. That was an emergency, so..."
He chuckled, a sound that carried a mixture of amusement and resignation. "Fair enough. We keep our secrets, even from each other."
The moment lingered, the unspoken understanding between them deepening.
Alyn sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the weight of the world from her shoulders. With a deliberate motion, she raised her hand to her ear, fingers tracing the edge of the crimson mask. The room held its breath as she slowly peeled the mask away, revealing features that had long remained concealed.
The air seemed to shift, charged with a raw vulnerability as the mask fell into her hand. Alyn, now unmasked, stood before Ryan, her expression a blend of weariness and a quiet surrender to the moment. The room, witness to so many secrets, felt different in this unguarded instant.
Ryan's violet eyes, usually hidden behind the stoic facade of his mask, widened ever so slightly. The unmasking carried a weight beyond the physical removal of cloth; it exposed a layer of trust and openness that transcended their professional boundaries.
Alyn met his gaze, her eyes holding a silent invitation for him to reciprocate. He simply stood there, in silent awe, as if caught in the gravity of the moment. Her unmasked vulnerability seemed to resonate with something within him.
She smiled softly, an acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between them, and extended her hand toward his ear. Somehow, the loud noises of gunshots began to fade away in the background.
Slowly, she traced the edge of his grey mask, fingers gentle yet purposeful, and began the process of unveiling the concealed features beneath.
As the mask relinquished its hold, Alyn found herself holding both the crimson and gray masks in her hands. Her gaze shifted from the crumpled pieces of disguise to meet Ryan's eyes. With a subtle yet deliberate motion, she slightly crumpled them up before releasing the masks from her grip.351Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ01pJl9ifA0
Emboldened by the tender energy in the room, she closed the remaining distance between them.
With a soft and lingering touch, she traced along the scar on his cheek with her finger, his arms wrapped securely around her waist.
As her finger neared his lip, he began to say, "Did I ever mention... you're really beautiful..." but she delicately placed her finger on his lips, hushing his words.
"Just... shut up..." she whispered. "That is so 20's..."
The air crackled with anticipation as both leaned in, a charged atmosphere hinting at a promise. Slowly, this began evolving into an spontaneous hug with platonic intentions, yet the feeling that came with it felt like more.
Their gazes locked, as they silently stared into each other's violet eyes. The room, now filled with an unspoken understanding, bore witness to the intimate connection just beyond realization. As the hug lingered, a subtle shift in the air suggested the rise something more... until...351Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk93d4rCPrT
"You two, what are you doing?! Why are your masks off, and... are you hugging?!" an aghast, raspy third voice broke in from the mezzanine floor above them. It was the unmistakeable voice of John, Ryan's superior.
"Welcome back to reality, lovebirds." a fourth, more melodious voice muttered. "You have a mission."
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