General and I

THE COLD NIGHT

The party was in full rhythm now. The air pulsed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint hum of jazz drifting through the hall. Officers and recruits mingled freely, the formality of the camp melting away for one rare evening of joy.

Damien sat at the far end of the VIP section, one arm resting casually on the back of his chair, his sharp gaze scanning the room with quiet disinterest. His shirt was unbuttoned, the top of his collar loose a rare gesture of relaxation, though his eyes betrayed no such thing.

Ann Parker seized the opportunity to slide into the seat beside him, her perfume flooding the air like a challenge.

“General,” she began sweetly, her smile poised, “Mother told me you’ve been overworking yourself again. She asked me to remind you that she’ll be sending some groceries from home tomorrow. You know how much she worries.”

Damien barely turned to face her. His expression was neutral, but his voice carried a sharp edge. “I don’t need groceries, Miss Parker. I have a fully staffed base kitchen.”

Ann blinked, caught off guard, but quickly regained her composure. “Of course, I just thought”

“You thought wrong,” he cut in coldly. “Enjoy the party.”

He didn’t spare her another glance. Ann’s smile faltered as a wave of humiliation crept up her neck. The conversation had ended before it even began.

A chuckle came from the seat across the table. Zach Trent leaned back, his glass glinting under the light.

“Harsh as ever, Cole,” he drawled, swirling the amber liquid. “You never did learn how to entertain a lady.”

Damien’s lips curved in the faintest smirk. “Maybe that’s because I’ve never had interest in entertaining one.”

“Ah, but you do have eyes,” Zach countered smoothly. “And from what I see, those eyes have been drifting.”

Damien said nothing, only took the glass before him and downed it in a single motion. The liquor burned down his throat, grounding him. Yet even as he set the glass back down, his gaze wandered once again unbidden, unwilling to the other side of the room.

There she was.

Leah Sanders.

She wasn’t dancing, wasn’t laughing like the others. She sat with her friend Natasha, quiet but radiant in that simple black gown that seemed to absorb the room’s light and give it back softer. Her long hair framed her face, and though she looked small, she carried a gravity that drew his eyes again and again.

He didn’t understand it the pull, the curiosity, the ache. Maybe it was her quiet defiance. Maybe it was the sorrow that clung to her even when she smiled. Whatever it was, he couldn’t look away for long.

Ann followed his gaze and her blood boiled.

So that’s who it is, she thought. Leah ☹️

Leah wasn’t drinking, just occasionally sipping water while Natasha danced. Ann’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. She leaned toward her two friends and whispered something. Within moments, the three of them crossed the floor toward Leah’s table.

“Hey,” Ann greeted, feigning friendliness. “Mind if we sit here?”

Leah blinked in surprise. “Uh, sure.”

Ann sat without waiting for an answer. Her tone was honeyed, her eyes sharp. “Leah ,You’ve really made a name for yourself these past weeks.”

“I didn’t realize that,” Leah said softly, cautious.

“Oh, everyone’s talking about you,” Ann continued, lifting a glass. “You’ve got a lot of spirit. You must be exhausted from all the training come on, relax a little.”

Her friend passed Leah a cup filled with a pale, sweet-smelling drink. “It’s non-alcoholic,” she said smoothly. “Just juice.”

Leah hesitated, then took a small sip. The taste was surprisingly pleasant sweet, with a faint burn that she ignored. The girls chatted, complimenting her dress and hair, their smiles too polished to be real.

Ann kept the drinks coming. “You’re not keeping up!” she teased, pushing another glass into Leah’s hand.

One. Two. Three. Four.

The room began to tilt. The lights blurred, laughter growing distant. Leah’s heartbeat thudded in her ears as her body grew warm and heavy.

“I… I need some air,” she mumbled, standing on shaky legs. Natasha, busy on the dance floor, didn’t notice her slip away.

Leah stumbled out into the night. The cool breeze hit her skin, but it didn’t help the air spun, and she pressed a hand to her forehead, her vision swimming.

“I just need… to breathe,” she whispered to herself.

Her steps faltered. The ground tilted again, and before she could fall, a firm hand caught her by the waist.

“Easy,” a familiar voice said low, controlled, unmistakable.

Leah blinked up at him through hazy eyes. “General Cole?”

Damien’s jaw clenched as he steadied her. “You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not,” she protested weakly, pulling away only to nearly fall again.

He sighed in frustration, catching her once more. “Leah,” he said quietly but firmly, “enough. You can barely stand.”

Her head lolled slightly as she tried to focus on his face. “You look… different tonight,” she murmured with a faint, dazed smile. “Not scary.”

Damien exhaled sharply through his nose. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re in.”

He looked around. The courtyard was empty. If anyone saw her like this the General holding an intoxicated recruit rumors would erupt by morning.

Without another word, he bent down, sweeping her effortlessly into his arms. She gasped, mumbling incoherently as he carried her toward his private quarters.

“Stop struggling,” he muttered. “You’re in no condition to walk.”

Leah finally went still, her cheek resting against his chest. Her breathing slowed, and in the quiet night air, Damien could hear her whisper something barely audible, fragile.

“I didn’t get to thank you… for letting me stay.”

He looked down, his heart tightening unexpectedly.

Her words slurred again. “My life’s so… miserable. I just… don’t think I can take it anymore.”

Damien’s steps faltered for the briefest second. The rawness in her voice, the quiet despair it hit deeper than he expected.

When he reached his quarters, he placed her gently on the couch. She blinked up at him, tears welling again, her emotions spilling freely.

“I try so hard,” she whispered. “But it never stops hurting.”

For a moment, he stood frozen the great Damien Cole, who could silence a room with one command, now struck speechless before a crying recruit.

Then, slowly, he knelt beside her and reached for a tissue. “You’ve had enough pain for one night,” he said quietly, brushing the tears from her cheek.

She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Why are you so kind now? You were so cold before.”

He didn’t answer. He simply sighed, stood, and fetched a glass of water. “Drink this.”

Leah obeyed, her hands trembling.

“Go take a shower,” he said softly, glancing away. “You’ll feel better. There’s a towel in there.”

She nodded drowsily, somehow finding her way to the small adjoining bathroom. Damien heard the faint sound of water running a fragile rhythm that filled the silence.

He sat down, rubbing his temples. What am I doing? he thought. She’s just a recruit. A child compared to my world.

When she emerged minutes later, her hair hung in wet waves, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She was wrapped in the towel he’d given her, and she looked lost, fragile too pure for a place as cruel as this.

Damien averted his gaze instantly, grabbing a pair of new shirt . “Sit,” he ordered gently. “You’re not sleeping in wet clothes.”

He gave her the shirt and she that moment there hand touched .She flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t pull away.she went into the bathroom to get change , when she returned her face still flushed and obviously still drunk and oblivious to her surroundings, Damien looked at her , the shirt is just a little above her knee ,and big. She’s really petite compared to his burly self,he scrutinized her from head to toe and couldn’t help but swallow his saliva, this small puppy is not even aware of how she’s making him feel , he really should stop seeing her at this moment, besides romance in the camp is frowned upon and he couldn’t be seen breaking the rule, Leah’s voice broke his chain of thought and he jolted back to reality

“Thank you,” she whispered, voice trembling. “For… everything.”

He looked down at her at the faint bruise on her slender leg from training, he looked at the tired but beautiful resilience in her face.

“You’re strong, Leah,” he said finally, his tone softer than he intended. “Stronger than you think.”

She gave a small, sleepy smile. “You sound like someone who knows pain.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stood, walking toward the door.

“Rest,” he said, his back turned. “No one will disturb you tonight.”

As he stepped out into the quiet corridor, he exhaled slowly, the night air heavy around him. Inside, Leah curled up on the bed,clutching the blanket like armor.

And somewhere deep in his chest, Damien Cole realized something dangerous

He didn’t just pity her anymore.

He is falling for her, he couldn’t believe the short meeting in the elevator could stir up something in his heart to this extent .