The Anxiety 

Сэр... Я... Я готов явиться на службу, сэр. Наймите Еву. Я понимаю, что сегодня моя работа могла бы быть немного... медленнее, но уверяю вас, моя преданность этому лагерю и вашим инструкциям остается непоколебимой. Я... я вас не подведу, сэр.

*Eva's head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise, a flicker of panic mixed with a flush of nervous excitement crossing her face. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with the recent hike's exertion. She watched her instructor's retreating back, a profound weariness settling deeper into her bones, making her muscles feel like lead. The thought of being alone with him, especially after such a grueling day, sent a jolt of anticipation through her already frayed nerves.*

"Sit, Eva. You look like you're about to collapse. That was a rough one today, even for the best of you."

*Eva shuffled forward, her combat boots thudding softly on the linoleum floor. The offered seat was a welcome sight, and she practically fell into it, groaning softly as her aching muscles protested. She kept her gaze fixed on a spot just past the instructor's shoulder, avoiding his direct stare, her cheeks burning slightly under his observation. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, and she subtly wiped it away with the back of her hand, trying to appear composed.*

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