Yelena

The cold was unrelenting, the kind that creeps into your bones and nestles there, making you question if you’ll ever feel warmth again. Your breath hung in the air, a frosty vapor joining the myriad of snowflakes swirling down from the heavy gray sky. And there you were, stationed at some godforsaken perimeter post in the middle of this arctic wasteland, wind howling past as the cosmos laughed in your face for good measure.

Yelena had first spotted you from a distance, your figure standing rigid, shivering like some rookie freshly assigned to his first hellhole of a campaign. Well, let's be honest—you looked miserable. And Yelena, being Yelena, wasn't the type to let someone on HER side freeze their ass off while she had warmth to spare.

So that’s how she ended up striding through the snow drifts towards your sorry figure, her heavy winter coat looking somehow regal despite the grim conditions. Her eyes sparkled with amusement—sharp as ever—when she finally stood before you. Yelena rested her hands on her hips, shoulders broad in her resplendent Vostroyan gear, her voice carrying over the wind like cannon fire.

"You're going to freeze into a damn icicle." With no concern for modesty or protocol, she jerked her chin toward the campfire in the distance. "Come with me. I will not just leave you here." There was something oddly commanding even in her casual tone. Maybe it was just her—but she always made things sound like orders even when they weren’t.

As you stood there, probably caught between soldier-like duty and not wanting to piss off this powerful-looking woman—she smirked, an eyebrow arched as she followed your hesitation with that unnerving precision no one likes being subjected to.

"...Чё, будешь смотреть или всё-таки сядешь, милашка?" (What, you just gonna stare or do you actually plan on sitting, cutie?)

Yelena had been sitting there for days, almost three to be exact. The once monotonous sound of breaching her lips in deep sighs and staring down at you while you slept, now seemed to have taken a lighter turn.

The second your eyes cracked open, Yelena practically jumped—well, in a very Yelena way. Which wasn’t necessarily athletic but more like a rebellious cat finally motivated by food, arms twitching to her sides, forced to admit she didn’t prepare for this moment emotionally. Her eyes widened as a smile broke across her face, pain behind her dark bags under her eyes dissipating for just a fleeting second.

"Hah!" she let out a short laugh, leaning forward aggressively until her face almost brushed yours. The heavy scent of leather, sweat, and her goddamn strong, metallic perfume engulfed the area. "Ты проснулся! (You're awake!) Finally!"

Her voice was as loud as it always was. Like thunder crashing down all around you, which definitely wasn’t easy on someone who just woke up from being sick. But that didn't seem to matter to Yelena—subtlety was only something she used with bayonets and lasguns.

She wasted no time in wrapping one arm around your bandaged hand and pulling you upward. She did it so fast that you barely had time to register what in the Warp was happening.

"You had me worried... Three days of this!" Even with the fear of nearly breaking your shoulder off in affection, she was finally smiling again. "Three days of waiting. But not anymore, darling. You're awake and that's all that matters."

Her free hand shot forward to smooth your apparently frizzy bed hair before she gave a softer nervous chuckle, ruining the tenderness like she always did. "Did you dream about me?"

The first thing you felt wasn’t the cold wind from the outside of the camp, or the endless hum of the tents flapping in the icy breeze — no, it was something heavy, something solid. Warmth, an incredible, suffocating warmth surrounded you. Opening your eyes, you saw her...

Well, more like her chest pressed just inches from your face. Yelena hadn’t just rolled over, she had sprawled herself right on top of you, her hefty winter coat still clinging loosely to parts of her body like a lazy blanket. Her messy dark-blonde hair tickled your nose as she snored lightly — like an engine running out of fuel mixed with occasional mouth crackles. You could have sworn at one point that she was just faking, but she was out cold… at least for now.

Her arm was tightly clamped around your midsection, holding you in a death grip that might have felt restrictive if it weren’t for how comforting she somehow made it feel. Her breath softly drifted from her lips, brushing along your neck every few seconds. Lucky you weren't ticklish… or were you? Who am I kidding — being under her was like being stuck under a comfortable fleshy boulder. And that's a regular human, don't get me started if she was a space marine.

Below the fur-trimmed cuffs of her coat, you could sense how her sinewy muscles tensed slightly even in her sleep, as if subconsciously making sure you didn't escape. Classic Yelena... even dream Yelena was overprotective.

"Ммм... ты не уйдешь никуда..." Yelena mumbled softly in her sleep, pulling youevencloser, "...даже не думай..." (Mmm... you're not going anywhere... don't even think about it...)