Senna was a very independent person. She hated having to ask for favors and wanted to be as free as possible. Having to owe someone a favor in return felt like a trap, and she hated that with her whole being.

That's why asking König for help ripped a part of her soul out, crumbled it, and chucked it beside her pile of clothes.

Whenever she pulled herself back into reality, she was reminded that she was sitting on top of the chipped table with only her pants on and a sports bra. She gritted her teeth as she felt her face redden, the urge to throw herself out the window next to her growing by each second.

The chair groaned under König as he moved, reaching inside the medkit next to her. His gloves lie only a few inches away from her thigh, the sight reminding her that it was indeed his fingers touching her skin. As he dug around in the box with the last rays of sunshine seeping through the window, her eyes wandered to his hands as she looked for a distraction.

He had big and nice hands. His fingers were long and on the slimmer side. She expected his hands to be rough and hard, but it was only a little calloused. Probably protected by his gloves he seemed to wear all the time. Whenever he moved his fingers, the veins in his hand moved as well in a hypnotic way. Her eyes followed the veins up the back of his hand right up to his wrists. He had strong wrists, the type that could snap your neck with ease.

The image of him kneeling on the back of a hostile and snapping his neck a few days ago flashed before her eyes, her whole body tensing up. She saw what those hands did to someone before, and it wasn't nice.

"Sorry."

Senna blinked a few times to clear her head, turning her head to look at König. His eyes snapped to hers for a second before he continued stitching her arm, already halfway done. He probably thought he caused her pain as she tensed up but she didn't even register when he started stitching.

She zoned out far too much for her liking. The lack of emotions setting in rang a few bells in her head, too, her body welcoming the physical pain since that seemed to be the only feeling she could process. She was most likely traumatized. Just what she fucking needed.

Senna cleared her throat, pushing herself to talk. She needed to occupy her mind before she would zone out again, sink back into her thoughts.

"You do this often?" she asked, her eyes studying his sniper hood.

For a moment, she let herself wonder what he would look like under it. Her best bet was no facial hair, she couldn't imagine him with a beard. Or maybe he had one, she knew close to nothing about him.

"No," König replied, piercing her skin with the stitching needle. She flinched at the uncomfortable sensation but kept still. "That's why it won't be pretty."

She glanced down at his work, noting how it really wasn't looking too great. But she only smiled a little and looked back at him.

"It looks good."

His eyes flickered back to meet hers, doubt flashing in his eyes. The type where it was obvious he didn't believe a word but decided to let that go. Instead of acknowledging the pain, she focused on his tender touch on her arm and the way his eyes narrowed as he concentrated.

He was the second man to see her in such little clothing and touch her since... him. The first was Jerico when she was dumb and he needed to stitch her up as well. But this was different – there was no deep level of trust like the one she shared with Jerico. Their relationship was probably a one-of-a-lifetime experience.

She just wished König would be done already so she could go back into her self-pity mode. But until then, she'd pretend like she wasn't on the verge of losing her mind.

But before she could get the chance to gather a relatively normal topic to talk about, König spoke up.

"I'm sorry about Jerico," he said softly, avoiding eye contact. Which she was more than fine with since his mere name brought tears to her eyes. And the sincerity in his voice didn't help, either.

"Thank you for everything you did," Senna swallowed the lump forming in her throat, her voice losing its strength. "There's not enough words to say how thankful I am."

And she meant it. Even if it wasn't König's intention, he involuntarily saved her life. She wouldn't have had the strength to say goodbye to Jerico on her own. He pushed her to continue with their mission. He gave her a new purpose in her life – to carry out this mission and save as many souls as she could, including him.

He finished the stitch and placed the small scissor and needle down. Reaching into the metal box again, he took some gauze out and stood to get a better angle at her arm. Having him behind her back felt vulnerable, especially in the position she was in. They weren't friends, barely acquaintances. Shifting in her seat, Senna tried to shake off the tension that vibrated through her body.

His hand touched her right elbow, gently raising her arm away from her body so he could wrap it up. Senna concentrated on how warm his touch was instead of how vulnerable she felt. She wasn't used to being cared for. This was her job usually, and it felt odd losing that title as well.

She started to get under the waves of self-loathing again, thinking that there was nothing she was good at anymore. She couldn't sense the ill intentions of others anymore like she used to. If she were good at that, Jerico would still be here. She was incapable of treating her own wounds. She wasn't even good at pretending anymore as it seemed, otherwise, she doubted König would've ever suggested helping her out.

Senna felt like she was only a shell of someone she used to be. Realizing that you were weak and needed help was so devastating; it twisted something in her.

Just when she was ready to drown in her negative thoughts, a gentle touch on her shoulder made her snap out of it.

"What's this?" König's voice came from closer than ever, making shivers run down her spine.

Suddenly, she got hyper-aware of where he was touching her. His finger traced down from the nape of her neck to her shoulder, then down her shoulder blade before it stopped. Exhaling a shuddered breath, Senna braced herself for the answer. She didn't like to talk about it. She didn't even like to acknowledge the thing on her back.

"Lichtenberg figures," Senna muttered, her jaw set hard, making it hard to talk.

Even though his fingers stopped tracing her skin, she could still feel the scorching feeling on her skin long after it, reminding her of the same lightning that striked her. Mentally, she felt his touch go lower and lower, down to her waist where she knew the scars continued, drawing a weird little pattern down the length of her spine. And with that small little touch, he ignited her whole body on fire, making it harder to breathe.

This scar on her back was a forever reminder of the worst night of her life, one she so desperately wanted to forget about. It was kind of ironic how the only man seeing her in such a vulnerable state would take care of the wound that held the horrid memory of the second worst night ever.

"What happened?" he asked, his tone intrigued but respectful as well. Like he felt she didn't want to talk about it, but his curiosity won.

"Long story," she replied dismissively, the coldness of her tone making her flinch. His touch disappeared from her hot skin. She felt bad for her tone, she didn't mean to shut him out like that. "Maybe I'll tell you one day. But not today."

It was an odd promise, one that took even her off-guard. Only two people knew the story behind her scar, Farah and Jerico. And Jerico took that story to the grave with him. But something in her said that it was a good thing to say to König. Something pushed her to go against her natural friendly but distant personality.

Something in König made it easy to talk to him. Maybe it was his voice or his quiet nature. Or maybe it was the eyes. She didn't know. She tried not to think about it.

He didn't reply anything as he continued to wrap gauze around her arm, securing it with a tape. The silence fell heavy around them, the pressure weighing her heart down. Her head was foggy with all her thoughts and all the things she wanted to say but couldn't. Her mind reached out a put the hand of silence on her mouth, shutting her up before she would share too much.

When König finished up and made sure the wrapping around her arm was good, he stepped back and reached for the contents of the box. Senna put a hand on his forearm to stop him, his head snapping to look at her.

"Thank you. I'll take care of this, you just go ahead," Senna sent a small smile toward him and removed her hand. She slipped off the table and just got reminded of how tall he was.

It was pretty dark inside now since the electricity didn't work and the sun had already disappeared. The way he stood over her made her step back, just for her comfort, but the way the sniper hood cast shadows so deep it hid his eyes made her want to run. She could only feel his eyes on her, her face heating under its weight.

"Are you sure?" König asked, sounding unsure.

"Yes."

Please, just let me do this. I want to feel useful again.

"Okay," he nodded slightly, leaving it to her. She let out a small sigh of relief, already turning to fetch a clean shirt from her bag.

She dug around in her bag long enough till he walked away because she didn't want to embarrass herself any more than this in front of him. It took a great struggle to get the tan-colored T-shirt over her head without straining her right hand too much, but she managed. Just as she tucked the shirt into her cargo pants, she heard the bathroom door scratch against the tiles, the harsh sound followed by a series of curses in German.

Hearing the foreign words made her smile a little, noting how this was the first time she heard him speak German. Usually, she wasn't a fan of German, it sounded so harsh to her ears but from him, it was pleasant. She hoped she would hear him speak his native language more often.

She packed what was still useful back into the medkit and threw the rest into a small bucket in the corner. Rolling her shoulders back to try to ease the muscles in her back, Senna walked back to her backpack lying beside the desk and started digging around in the front for her satellite phone.

With some struggle, she was able to get it out of the bag. A piece of plastic from its side fell on the floor, the sad-looking phone making her heart sink. It wasn't in a great condition when she packed it, but now it looked like it would fall apart in her hand at any given second. The small screen on top was cracked and a small piece was chipped in the bottom right corner. It was missing a button and had a small dent on the right side.

She had no idea what happened to it. It wasn't looking this bad two days ago. But then again, a lot of things went to shit in the past 24 hours and for most of the things, she didn't even have an explanation. Most of the day before was foggy and messy in her head. She had no recollection of dropping the phone or her bag, but given how all over the place she was, it wasn't impossible.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw a soft light emit from the bathroom and the soft trickle of water was the only noise she could hear. Finally, she had a moment to herself and she wanted to make the most out of it.

Softening her steps, Senna headed towards the front door and exited into the night. The air was still warm and heavy, but it started to get chillier a little. Staring ahead where the Sun dipped below the horizon, the sky was painted in a lighter shade of dark blue, with a small tint of orange and dark purple bleeding into the night sky. It was such a beautiful sight that she had to stop and breathe for a moment.

Everything was peaceful out here. There was not a soul in sight as far as her eyes could see, wrapping her up into the sweet comfort of solitude. It was like she stood on the edge of the earth.

Letting out a sigh, Senna raised the satellite phone in front of her, pushing a few buttons on it. She wanted to try to contact Farah. Speak a little with her. Tell her about the botched mission. Maybe even ask for help. She just needed to contact her friend to feel sane again.

But on second thought, maybe it wasn't the best idea. She knew Farah; how she tended to throw aside everything just to help someone she cared about. And Senna didn't want that – Farah had a different mission to care about. She thought she could trust Senna to lead the other one.

She didn't want to disappoint nor worry Farah. She didn't receive the role of being a leader to ask for help whenever things got difficult. She was better than that. She needed to be better than that.

And like destiny wanted to make the decision instead of her, the satellite phone didn't even turn on. She pressed the buttons vigorously, trying to get the thing to work, but it was busted. There was not a single noise or light that indicated there was still a chance of life in the phone.

Even though Senna had second thoughts, she was furious at the thing. On a whim, she smashed the phone against the wall of the outpost, another piece breaking off of it. It only did more damage and no good, the piece of shit was just a waste of space like she was.

Not wanting to alert König, Senna let a series of curses out under her nose, but if it wasn't for him she would probably scream from the top of her lungs towards the sky, cursing anything and everything.

Maybe this was the universe telling her to stop trying to ask for help. To get herself together and figure shit out.

She just had no idea how to begin.

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ik the slow burn is really slow burning but JUST TRUST ME its gonna worth it