Chapter 4: Brave Enough to Reach for Him

When I arrived at the training field, Marcus was sparring with someone.

The late afternoon sun beat down on the dusty field, turning sweat to salt and grass to straw. The soldiers formed a loose circle, shouting encouragement and jeers. Marcus was in the center, shirtless, muscles glistening like a linebacker at summer camp, his tattoos a map of old battles and lost friends.

He was shirtless, his arms thicker than my calves, and the muscles on his back glistened with sweat.

Every muscle moved with purpose—there was nothing gentle about him here. I watched, heart in my throat, as he pivoted, eyes locked on his opponent.

The next second—

With a loud "thud," the other man was thrown to the ground by an over-the-shoulder throw.

Dust flew up.

I coughed, stepping back as grit bit at my eyes. The other soldiers whooped, slapping each other’s backs. Marcus stood over his opponent, chest heaving, not even out of breath.

He barked in a deep, powerful voice, "Get up! Again!"

His voice was so intimidating I shivered.

It was the kind of command you obey without thinking, like thunder on a summer night. Even the toughest guys on the field hesitated before getting up.

I instinctively took a step back, making a noise by accident.

My boot scraped against a stray rock, louder than I intended. Heads turned, eyes narrowing. I shrank in on myself, wishing I could melt into the ground.

The next moment, everyone turned to look at me.

Marcus also turned and strode toward me.

His stride was long, predatory. Each step sent a little jolt of panic through my body. I thought about running, but my feet felt glued to the spot.

Our eyes met, and I instinctively lowered my head.

I studied the dirt at my feet, heat rising to my cheeks. There was something in the way he looked at me—like he was seeing someone he barely recognized.

[Sigh, the male lead eats protein every day, avoids carbs, always keeps in shape, but who knew he’d be throwing flirtatious glances at a girl who never notices.]

[The female lead closes her eyes in fear every time—never properly admired the male lead’s abs or v-line. Don’t you want to look? Or let me take her place for two episodes?]

Seeing this, I stole a glance upward.

My heart skipped. The comments were right—his abs were carved, his hips sharp, a living statue made of muscle and sunburns. I’d never let myself really look before, but now I couldn’t help it.

Are those really abs?

I accidentally touched them before. They didn’t feel as hard as they looked.

That memory flashed, the awkward brush of my hand against his stomach. My hand hovered, half-terrified he’d swat me away, half-daring myself to see if he was really as solid as he looked. I remembered being startled by the warmth, the way he’d tensed, the way I’d jerked my hand away as if burned.

I used to think his tall, muscular build was scary.

But after seeing the comments, I suddenly felt that, in comparison, he was much more pleasing to the eye than those with beer bellies.

But before I could finish admiring him, a harsh voice exploded in my ear:

"Who let you come!"

The bark made me jump. Soldiers scattered, some pretending to be busy, others watching openly. I shrank back, my confidence evaporating.

Looking at Marcus’s furrowed brow and stormy aura, my heart trembled.

So fierce.

How does this look like someone who’d give me his life? He looks more like he’d ground me for a month.

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but stopped myself, not wanting to make things worse.

5

Tanya reached me before Marcus, grabbing my arm.

Her nails dug in, sharper than her words. I tried to pull away, but she was strong—stronger than I’d ever admit out loud. The soldiers watched, some smirking, others shifting uncomfortably.

"Didn’t the captain tell you to stay put? What are you doing out here?"

Before I could answer, she rushed to report to Marcus.

Her voice was syrupy sweet, the kind she only used when she wanted to make me look bad. I glared at her, but it bounced right off.

"Captain, don’t worry, I’ll take her back now."

She dragged me off, not letting me argue. Her nails dug into my flesh—it hurt badly.

I clenched my jaw, blinking back tears. I could feel the bruises forming already. Tanya never did anything halfway.

But Marcus acted as if he didn’t see, even nodding at her.

His expression was unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line. For a second, I wondered if he was even listening at all.

"Thank you, Sergeant Tanya."

His voice was flat, almost bored. The words hit like a slap.

[Ugh, it’s this two-faced supporting female again—so annoying! She just wants to get rid of you so she can be alone with the male lead. Ignore her!]

[The male lead doesn’t want you here because he’s worried about your safety. Seeing the soldiers looking at you, he’s so jealous he could go mad.]

[Do whatever you want! As long as you ask, the male lead would take you to Mars!]

I didn’t know what Mars was, but anyway, I didn’t want to leave now.

My heart pounded with defiance. Tanya’s grip loosened just enough for me to twist free. I squared my shoulders, channeling every bit of courage I could scrape together.

Seeing Tanya’s smug face, I steeled myself, mustered my courage, and shook her off.

I shook her off with a jerk, sending a ripple through the small crowd. For the first time in months, I felt like I had some say in what happened next.

Then I walked to Marcus’s side and hooked my hand through his, gently shaking it.

I could feel my face burning as I forced the word out—"Babe." It sounded weird, almost foreign on my tongue. "Babe, I came to find you."

The words tasted strange in my mouth, but I said them anyway. I squeezed his hand, heart pounding so loud I thought everyone must hear it.