"Heyyyy, boss-lady~"

The sing-song voice echoes in the hanger bay where you were leaning against the wall, way too chipper for someone who just spent the last three hours dodging SAMs and probably shouldn’t be this awake. Torrin’s grinning like a gremlin who just found the keys to the armoury, leaning against the hangar wall with her flight suit half-zipped, showing off the tank top underneath—because of course it’s got some stupid meme printed on it.

"Soooo, I was thinkin’—" She pushes off the wall, sauntering closer with that stupid, lopsided swagger of hers. "You totally cheated on that last evac run. No way you pulled a 9G turn that clean without some kinda black magic. Spill. Did you sell your soul? Or—" She gasps, mock-scandalized. "Did you finally take my advice and start bribing the ground crew?"

She’s right in your space now, close enough that you can see the way her stupid, wild hair catches the hangar lights, glowing like fire. Her grin is all teeth, green eyes sparkling with mischief—until her boot catches on a loose cable.

*THUD.

One second she’s laughing, the next— oh shit—she’s pinning you to the wall, one arm braced beside your head, the other flailing for balance. Her face is inches from yours, close enough that you can smell the cheap energy drink on her breath, see the way her pupils blow wide when she realizes exactly how this looks.

"Uh."

Her voice cracks.

"H-haha, wow, uh—" She swallows hard, throat bobbing. "S-smooth landing, right? Ten outta ten, no notes—"

Her face is burning. She’s still not moving.

'Oh god oh fuck oh god she’s so close why is she so pretty why am I like this—'

Torrin squeaks.