Nova and Stratos Short Stories

Unexpected

The dim glow of lanterns cast long shadows across the walls of the medical tent as night settled in. The distant sounds of battle had quieted for the moment, replaced by the soft murmurs of the wind and the occasional rustle of fabric. Nova Valentine sat at her small desk, organizing supplies and checking inventory, her mind half-focused on the task. Stratos Spheros lay on the cot nearby, his arm draped lazily over his head, looking more bored than injured.

“You don’t need to stay here all night, you know,” Stratos remarked, his voice cutting through the silence. “I’m fine. Probably could’ve gone back out hours ago.”

Nova shot him a look, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not going anywhere until I say you’re ready. That wound’s deeper than you think, and I’m not letting you tear it open because you’re too stubborn to rest.”

Stratos groaned, shifting slightly to sit up. “You’re way too cautious, Nova. I’ve had worse. It’s not like I’m going to fall apart if I walk around for a bit.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one cleaning up the mess when you do. I’ve had enough of your reckless stunts for one day.” Nova's tone was sharp, her frustration clear as she slammed a jar of ointment down on the table.

Stratos raised an eyebrow, his usual cocky grin fading. “What’s your problem? You’ve been snapping at me all day.”

Nova froze, her hands tightening around the edge of the table. She didn’t want to admit it, not to him. She didn’t want to say that seeing him hurt, even just a little, made her worry more than it should. That every time he threw himself into danger without thinking, a part of her felt like it was breaking. But of course, Stratos—ever reckless, ever charming—didn’t see it that way.

“My problem?” she said, turning to face him. “My problem is that you think you’re invincible! You go charging into every fight like nothing can touch you, and I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces every time you get hurt!”

Stratos blinked, taken aback by the intensity in her voice. He stood up slowly, wincing slightly from the pain in his side. “Nova, I’m just doing my job. I’m trying to help—”

“You’re trying to get yourself killed!” she cut him off, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something deeper. “You don’t get it, do you? Every time you throw yourself into danger, it’s like you don’t care what happens to you. Like you don’t care that—” She stopped herself, realizing what she was about to say.

“That what?” Stratos pressed, his voice low, his eyes searching hers.

Nova turned away, her heart racing. She didn’t want to go there. She didn’t want to admit just how much she cared. But the words were already hanging in the air, impossible to take back.

“That I worry about you,” she finally said, her voice quieter now. “That I’m tired of watching you get hurt and pretending like it doesn’t bother me.”

Stratos stood there, silent for a moment, his expression softening as the weight of her words sank in. He hadn’t expected this—not from Nova. She was always the strong one, the steady one. But now, seeing her like this, vulnerable and raw, something shifted inside him.

“Nova…” he started, stepping closer. “I didn’t know…”

“Of course, you didn’t,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes, more out of frustration than anything else. “You never think about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true.” His voice was gentle now, almost hesitant. “I just… I didn’t think you… cared that much.”

Nova let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Well, I do. So, maybe stop making it harder.”

For a moment, the tent was filled with nothing but silence. Stratos stood there, his eyes locked on hers, and something in his chest tightened. Without thinking, he reached out, his hand brushing against her arm.

“Nova,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I care about you too.”

Before Nova could respond, before she could even process his words, Stratos closed the distance between them, his lips crashing against hers in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

It took a moment for her to react, her mind reeling from the shock of it. But then, without even realizing it, she kissed him back. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer, the tension from their argument dissolving into something else entirely.

The kiss was rough, urgent, as if all the unspoken words and unresolved feelings between them had come to a head in this one explosive moment. Stratos’ hand cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek, while Nova’s fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt, as if afraid to let go.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. Nova’s heart was pounding in her chest, and Stratos looked as dazed as she felt.

“That… was unexpected,” Nova finally whispered, her voice barely audible.

Stratos let out a shaky laugh, his forehead still resting against hers. “Yeah… tell me about it.”

They stood there for a few moments longer, neither quite sure what to say. The air between them was thick with a new kind of tension—one that was far more complicated than any argument.

“I didn’t mean to… I mean, I didn’t plan…” Stratos stammered, suddenly unsure of himself in a way that was completely unlike him.

Nova looked up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite everything. “You really don’t plan anything, do you?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Not really, no.”

For the first time that night, Nova felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She didn’t know what this kiss meant, or what would happen next. But in this moment, none of that mattered.

All she knew was that, for once, Stratos Spheros wasn’t charging into something recklessly alone. He was right there with her.