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"Hey, who would’ve thought we’d ever get a break like this?"
Pieces of armor clatter onto the floor, surprisingly without much force. Trickles of sweat start to dry out in the cold air of the rather intimate room.
"Uh, hey?! Are you okay?"
Collapsed in the comfort of the soft bed was Sinclair. It seems the accumulated exhaustion from the past week finally caught up to him.
"Geez… You shouldn’t overwork yourself like this. It’s not healthy."
His seonbae, Ishmael, shares a room with him. Her levelheaded demeanor struck a chord within him, and she’s been his role model since.
"It’s a good thing we got a break, it looks like you really needed it. Can you even move in that state? Hold on, I’ll get you some water."
He watches as her voluminous orange hair disappears into the kitchen, leaving him to lie on the bed and wait for her. A few moments later, she comes back with a glass of water and carefully hands it to him.
"Here, drink slowly…"
"... Thanks, Ishy"
Ishmael raises an eyebrow slightly at the nickname.
"Hmm, don't mention it. Just make sure to take it easy today, alright?"
She sets the empty glass down on the nightstand and sits beside him on the bed, her hazel eyes studying his face closely.
"I know you're eager to prove yourself, but your health is more important than any mission right now. We can't afford to have you getting injured or worse because you pushed yourself too hard."
Ishmael gently places a hand on his forehead, checking him. "You're not burning up, so that's a plus. But you still look pretty worn out. Why don't you try to sleep for a bit? I'll keep an eye on things while you rest."
He can't help but feel a little... nostalgic, what she's doing reminds him about… her.
"You know, don't take this the wrong way, but you sound like you're my older sister."
… Oh.
"Well, I suppose that's not entirely inaccurate. As your seonbae, it's my duty to look after you and ensure you're not throwing your life away on reckless missions," Ishmael crosses her arms. "But let's not forget our roles here. I'm not your sibling, Sinclair. Our relationship is professional, nothing more."
Despite her words, a faint hint of warmth lingers in her tone, betraying a deeper concern for his well-being.
"Now, focus on resting."
Yeah, this makes him remember the good old times before with his… family.
"Okay, ma'am." Still, it doesn't affect the fact that he is happy with her.
A small, almost imperceptible smile plays on Ishmael's lips at his obedient response, though she quickly masks it with a stern expression again.
"Good. Now, close your eyes and try to relax. If you need anything, just let me know,"
She pats his shoulder reassuringly before standing up and moving to tidy up the room a bit, straightening out clothes and books.
"I might take a quick shower while you rest."
Ishmael glances over her shoulder, giving him a pointed look to emphasize her request before heading towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
As Sinclair rests, the room is quiet calm, only slightly disturbed by the sounds of Ishmael taking her shower. These moments of peace are always welcome for him; most of the time, these are jobs that both of them put their lives at risk. He feels grateful to still be alive and to enjoy these days. For some, it's boring... but not for him.
The sound of running water fades as Ishmael exits the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her slender frame. She dries off quickly, her mind wandering to thoughts of Sinclair lying peacefully in the bed. A pang of worry strikes her heart - she hopes Sinclair is truly resting and not just pretending to comply with her orders. Ishmael knows firsthand the consequences of pushing oneself too far in their line of work.
Sighing softly, she changes into a comfortable pair of pajama pants and a loose-fitting sweater before returning to the bedroom. Peering down at Sinclair, she notices the younger fixer's chest rising and falling steadily with each breath.
"At least you're sleeping soundly," she murmurs to herself, a gentle smile gracing her freckled features. "Let's hope you stay that way until morning."
Ishmael remains vigilant, occasionally glancing over at Sinclair's peaceful form. Her gaze softens, reflecting the deep bond that has formed between them despite their vastly different personalities. In the quiet of the night, memories surface - the countless missions they've undertaken together, the near-misses and close calls, the times Ishmael had to pull Sinclair back from the brink of exhaustion or self-sacrifice.
'Like an older sister.'
Yeah sure, she was the only one who looked out for him and thank goodness because if she hadn't he definitely wouldn't be here, he's strong and has potential but his weaknesses lie in his personality itself, plus he tends to put the safety of others before himself, which while it was a 'good' thing on escort missions that often led to him being in danger. That and because he's also someone empathetic and the only one she gets along with she always makes sure he's okay.
That sense of protectiveness swells within her, a feeling she's never experienced before. It's not just a professional obligation anymore, but a genuine concern for Sinclair's well-being that goes beyond duty. Ishmael's thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Sinclair stirring in his sleep. She leans in closer, her voice low and soothing. "Shh, just rest. I'm here."
Rest, she's starting to feel the need to rest too.
Watching Sinclair settle back into a deeper slumber, Ishmael feels her own fatigue catching up with her. She'd intended to keep vigil throughout the night, but the comforting presence of her teammate and the peaceful atmosphere of the room begin to lull her senses.
A yawn escapes her, and she realizes she hasn't slept properly in days too. Ishmael knows she should stay awake, but the allure of rest proves too great to resist. "Just this once," she whispers to herself, slipping beneath the covers and curling up beside Sinclair. Her arm drapes over his waist, providing a sense of security as they both drift off to sleep.