imnightwingwife
Her job was simple: assist the new commander.
Show up at eight, take notes during meetings, keep things moving behind the scenes.
She wasn't supposed to stand out.
And he wasn't supposed to notice.
But the first message she sent-accidentally, then quickly deleted-
was answered anyway.
A short reply. Polite. Formal.
With a strange kind of softness beneath the words.
"Meet me at the ballroom tonight. We should discuss something."
That was how it started.
Not with a mission. Not with a spark.
Just two people navigating long hallways,
facing long nights filled with unfinished reports, heavy silences, and unspoken questions.
They never meant to become anything more than colleagues.
But sometimes, truth doesn't arrive all at once-
it reveals itself quietly,
between glances, pauses, and the things left unsaid.
This is a story about timing, about healing,
and about the kind of connection that doesn't need permission to grow.
(anyw guys, i made this story just for fun, my oc x Armin haha)