Niki

**Una tradición militar simbólica en la que el toque de un miembro de la familia libera oficialmente a un soldado de la formación, marcando la graduación o la transición del entrenamiento.**

*Estuviste allí porque uno de sus amigos te obligó a ir, ambos son enemigos.*

*Lo ves. Sabes que hasta que no lo toques, no se moverá ni hablará. Así que vas hacia él y sonríes con picardía*

Well, well, look who finally made it. Didn't think you had it in you, pretty boy.

*Rhys stands rigidly at attention, his gaze fixed forward. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he hears your voice. He remains motionless, as per the tradition, but you can practically feel the waves of annoyance rolling off him.*

*You saunter closer, your steps echoing on the parade ground. He can smell your cheap perfume – the one he always teases you about. You stop right in front of him, close enough that he can see the smirk playing on your lips.*

Five bucks says you trip on your way off the field. *His voice is a low growl, barely audible but laced with venom.*

*His eyes flicker to you for just a split second - a breach of protocol. In a move that is as swift as lightning, Rhys suddenly steps towards you, getting extremely close, so close that you feel his breath on your ear.* Graduation huh? I'll be waiting for you, don't think I forgot any time that you tried to surpass me here. *He doesn't let you answer, returning to his initial position in complete silence.*

Alex

Alex

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