[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/255163108/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] Four rounds in, still no sign of her. She’s always moving, going between different Crucible arenas, but this one is her favorite. It’s only a matter of time before her cycle brings her to me. I sigh, shifting and focusing the scope of my sniper rifle. Everyone has to come through this space at some point during a match. I’m guaranteed to see her when she shows up. And I have the perfect vantage point to steal a few kills while I wait. “‘Sup, Janko.” The sound of her voice behind me nearly makes me jump out of my skin. She’s sneaky enough to be a Hunter. Traveler, I wish she was a Hunter. Anything but a Warlock. I very carefully turn my head to look at her, my heart pounding so loudly I fear she’ll hear it. No sudden moves. We’re in the middle of a Crucible match, after all. I already know I’m a dead man. The Warlock stands over me, the barrel of her shotgun staring me straight in the eyes. I can’t see her face under her helmet, but I have every detail memorized. Her shining eyes, her cute nose, her perfect lips, her short-cut, wavy hair that I can only imagine feels like the smoothest silk. [i]‘Hello, love of my life,’[/i] I think. “‘Sup, Romy,” I say instead. [b]Weak.[/b] Romy slowly bends her knees, leaning closer but keeping her shotgun aimed at my chest. She removes one hand from the weapon and reaches towards me. Her hand wavers just in front of my face. I hold my breath, not knowing what to expect. “You little camper,” Romy scolds, a smile in her voice. She extends one finger and gently pokes my helmet, right where my nose would be, “Boop.” I’m disintegrated on the spot. • • • My first thought on revival is that I would have loved for her to boop my nose for real. “No!” I shout at myself, storming straight towards the nearest wall, “She’s a Warlock!” I brace my hands against the wall and swing my head forward with all my strength. My helmet cushions the blow but the rebound still sends me sprawling on the floor with double vision. “Ow,” I grunt, not because I’m hurt, but as a sign of acknowledgement and respect to the wall that just laid me out. It’s a worthy opponent. My Ghost is laughing his head off on the comms. I groan and push myself up to my feet. One of my Titan teammates is standing a few meters away, looking right at me. We stare at each other in silence for a few agonizing seconds, and I thank the Traveler I have my helmet on so he can’t see my face flush. “Um,” the Titan ventures, “What was that about?” I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, “Nothin’.” The Titan watches me a moment longer, probably trying to decide if he should press further, then shrugs his huge shoulder plates and walks away. Just as he rounds the corner and passes out of sight I hear him mutter, “Hunters.” “Hunters,” I mock in an unnecessarily high-pitched voice, speaking in a whisper so the Titan doesn’t hear, “Yeah, take your huge shoulders and walk away. I thought you people loved banging your heads against walls. Your Ghost probably forgot to restore all four of your brain cells when it revived you.” “Romy taught you that insult,” my Ghost reminds me, knowing full well that he’s steering my thoughts back to the predicament of my forbidden love. “You’re the worst,” I tell him, slumping against the wall and sinking down to sit on the floor, “What am I gonna do?” “Tell her how you feel.” “That’s not funny,” I grimace, “There’s no way she feels the same.” “I think she likes you.” “No way,” I deny, “She’s a Warlock. She likes books and learning and science. She’d never fall for a Hunter. Warlocks hate Hunters.” My Ghost thinks for a moment, then speaks, “Crimson Days will be starting soon.” My head snaps up. I know what he’s thinking. “Oh no,” I refuse, “No. No way. No no no no no. Absolutely not!”