Location: Shooting Rang, Umbra Operations HQ, Dallas, Texas, USA
Time: 12:20 pm
"And," his voice dropped, heat brushing her ear, "no need to worry about your six. I'm right here, Lyra. That's a promise." At that moment, under the pretence of adjusting her stance, he drew her fully into his arms, speaking those words against her ear.She didn't take them seriously, she had always trusted only what was written in black and white.
But later, he would spend a lifetime proving that he was a man of his word.Every promise kept. She glanced up at him, her eyes carrying just enough teasing to say she knew exactly what he was doing.She didn't stop him, only gave him a look that said, I know you're flirting. "So… what's my next step for aiming?" That look made Arthur chuckle under his breath, clearly catching the subtle provocation. Amusement lit in his eyes as he spoke low, his hands still steady on her waist and hips, subtly shifting her center of gravity.
"Don't look at me like that, sweetheart. Hell, I'm just trying to get your stance right.But… if you keep being this damn cute, I might have to show you what Texas-style charm really looks like, darlin'." He guided her hands, adjusting her grip so her fingers wrapped firmly around the pistol grip while supporting the lower part of the hand-guard.
"Your grip has to be just right if you want to keep your aim from drifting. You know, I've seen plenty of rookies try it for the first time, and hell, most of them screw it up. Can't even hold their balance.But you…" His hands lingered on her hips just a moment longer, clearly testing her stability. That damned smirk stayed on his face as he leaned in, voice low."I've gotta admit, you're calm, steady… damn impressive."
She bit down lightly, not out of resistance, but from restraint, accepting the deliberate, almost playful touch without protest.Mulan had been right, those twelve straight hours of conditioning had prepared her body to anticipate and accept his proximity the moment it happened. "Do I meet Umbra's entry standards?" She asked suddenly, purely to tease him. Arthur gave a low hum, then let his palm land on her hip with a light, deliberate smack.
"Oh, Umbra might take you as a pretty receptionist… or my personal secretary." "But field ops? Sweetheart, a little thing like you wouldn't survive the kind of training that makes the Marines cry."He smiled, slow, unhurried, and tapped the grip in her hand, as if checking whether she was holding it firmly enough.
She didn't argue; she was never trained for front-line combat.Her battlefield had no gunpowder, yet she could decide exactly where it would fall.Instead, she asked evenly:"So… what's next? How do I aim and fire?" He made one final adjustment to her stance and balance, his body almost flush against her back. "Now,focus everything on that target. Then, we pull the trigger.The first shot matters, so you can feel exactly what this rifle can do."
"So,fire, sweetheart. I'm right behind you. Anything you need, I'll be here to respond. No need to worry." She squeezed the trigger.The shot cracked through the air, the sightline brushing the bullseye. The M4's recoil drove her straight into his chest. Arthur let out a satisfied chuckle, his eyes flashing with appreciation,not just for her near-perfect aim, but for the way her body instinctively came back to him under the kick.
"Damn, sweetheart… First time with an M4? That was gorgeous. Perfect aim, rock-steady control. Most people stumble forward from the recoil, but you… you let it push you right back into me." She asked calmly:"Then may I try a few more?" She worked to keep the sights steady, again and again, each recoil sending her body into his. Close enough to feel subtle changes in his breathing… and more.By the last few shots, she couldn't hold the muzzle steady, squeezing off rounds that barely stayed on target. He noticed immediately, his voice dropping with a smirk."Mm, Lyra… you can ignore that. I just couldn't help myself. You tick every box in my idea of a goddess, and now you're holding my favourite custom rifle, this close to me.Unless a man's a saint, it's damn near impossible to stay calm."
She bit down lightly, lowering the rifle.This man. If he's not flirting, is he even breathing? She shot back, smooth as ever:"Commander, your private shooting lessons are… very distracting." This time, his hands didn't hold back, he pulled her in tight.Her back pressed to his chest, heat sparking in the space between them."Darlin'… you're blushing. Adorable. I can hear your heartbeat… just like you can feel mine."
She worked to keep the sights steady, taking the recoil over and over. Each shot drove her back into him, close enough to feel the subtle shifts in his breathing and the tension in his muscles.
By the last few rounds, she could no longer hold the muzzle steady, squeezing the trigger with effort, the rounds landing just off target. He, of course, noticed her slipping control.A low chuckle escaped him, his words meant only for himself, knowing she couldn't hear a thing with her ear protection on: "Mm… Lyra, you can ignore that, just couldn't help myself.You tick nearly every box in my fantasies, and now you're holding my favourite custom weapon… pressed this close?Unless a man's a saint, there's no way to stay completely calm."
She bit down lightly, lowering the rifle.This man… his body was being very honest.And fair was fair. She raised her voice just enough to make sure he'd hear:"Commander, your private shooting lessons… are downright flustering."
This time, his hands didn't hold back, he pulled her in tight. Her back pressed against his chest, and it felt like a rush of heat sparked and ran between them.
After a moment, he loosened his grip, but didn't step away. Instead, he reached up and removed her earmuffs.As the cold metal lifted away, the sound of gunfire and the echo of the range flooded back into her ears.
"Mm… blushing again. Cute." His voice was low and certain."Even with the muffs on, with all this noise… I can still hear your heartbeat. Just like you can feel mine."
Then his tone shifted, still warm, but with the decisiveness of an instructor:"That's enough for today, sweetheart.First time with an M4, and you've already shown accuracy and control, you've got everything it takes to keep training."
Lyra glanced at him sideways, the corner of her lips curling with that faint, elusive smile. "So… does this mean I've passed the test?" Arthur let out a low chuckle, drawing the M4 back into his hands and smoothly removing the magazine. The metallic click echoed sharply across the range.
"Passed? Darlin', you did even better than I expected."He tilted his chin slightly, his tone shifting without warning, sharper now, carrying that unmistakable edge of an instructor."But remember," he said, voice steady, "a shooting range will never be the same as a battlefield."
She didn't answer right away. Instead, her gaze shifted to the paper target in the distance, most shots clustered neatly in the center rings, except for the last few. She knew perfectly well that this session wasn't just about marksmanship; it was a quiet duel, a mutual test where both of them were holding something back. Arthur studied her expression, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile laced with something more.
"Next time," he said slowly, "I'll teach you how to fire while moving… and,"He paused, his eyes deepening,"how to keep your aim steady when someone's watching you from behind." Lyra met his gaze, calm and unwavering. "I look forward to it."
They held each other's eyes for a moment, neither speaking.The wind carried the faint scent of gunpowder across the space between them, brushing past without dispersing the sharpness, or the undercurrent, lingering in the air.