Alvarez returns.

She heard the bunker door open, men shouting in confusion, and squeezed her eyes shut in fear. But moments later, she felt a hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes to see Alvarez standing beside her, his expression somber. "He's alive, but his leg is a mess," he said. "I saw the medics patching him up across the trench, and they'll get him back to base. He'll be okay."

Isabella nodded, swallowing hard. She turned away, walking to the back of the bunker where a makeshift bed lay. She sat down on it, her head in her hands, the reality of the situation weighing on her.

Alvarez stood awkwardly in the center of the room, his eyes flickering from her to the other guards, unsure what to do. Finally, he cleared his throat. "You should get some rest, Presidente," he said. "We'll keep watch. We'll let you know once the coast is clear and we can leave this shithole. It won't be long."

"Thank you," she said softly.

She watched as Alvarez and the others took up defensive positions near the door, their guns ready, their eyes alert. A silence descended on the bunker, broken only by the occasional murmur of voices or the shuffling of boots. Isabella sat in the bed, her thoughts swirling.

Eventually, she fell asleep, exhausted, her dreams haunted by images of **** and destruction.

When she awoke, it was to the sounds of muffled voices. Her eyes snapped open, and she realized that someone had laid a blanket over her while she slept. She sat up, her muscles stiff from sleeping on the hard bed, and peered toward the door of the bunker. The guards were talking in low tones, their guns at the ready.

"It's been hours," one of them said. "They should have given us the all clear by now."

"You know how it is," Alvarez replied, his voice tense. "It takes time to sweep an area, make sure it's safe."

"I know, but something's wrong," the other guard said.

Alvarez frowned, glancing at the bunker's door. "If they didn't find the sniper, maybe he's waiting for another shot. If he's out there, and we open the door, he could take one of us out."

Isabella watched as the guards murmured in agreement. Alvarez stepped forward, his jaw set. "We'll have to stay here for the night. I'll take first shift. Get some rest, and we'll figure this out in the morning."

The other guards nodded, settling in on the cold hard floor.

"You can take the bed," Alvarez said, turning to Isabella. "We'll be okay. Just try and get some sleep."

"No, I'm fine, I've already slept." she insisted.

"With respect, Presidente, we are trained for this. We cannot allow you to rest on the floor while we took the bed." Alvarez's tone was firm, but Isabella could detect a hint of concern in his eyes.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Very well. But if you need to switch, wake me."

"Yes, ma'am," Alvarez said, a smile tugging at his lips.

As the night wore on, Isabella found herself unable to sleep, her earlier slumber and the adrenaline of the day's events taking their toll. She tossed and turned on the bed, trying to get comfortable. The silence was deafening, and the occasional crack of a gunshot in the distance and the boom of returning artillery fire only served to heighten her anxiety.

She was about to give up and join Alvarez at the door when she felt a presence beside her. She turned to see him standing over her, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Sorry to disturb you, Presidente," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I just finished my shift and wanted to make sure you were okay."

Isabella's breath caught in her throat, and she sat up, her eyes wide. "I'm fine, thank you. Just a bit restless."

"I can't blame you," Alvarez replied. "Being in the trenches is bad enough. Being trapped in a bunker is worse."

Isabella's heart raced, and she found herself staring into his dark eyes. In the dim light of the bunker, they looked almost black, and his features were cast in shadow, accentuating the strong lines of his face. She had always been aware of Alvarez's handsome features, but now, alone with him, they seemed even more pronounced.

"You're brave, to do this for me," she said softly.

Alvarez shook his head. "No braver than anyone else. I have a job to do, and I'll do it."

"Thank you, nonetheless."

Alvarez gave a short laugh. "You're welcome, ma'am."

An awkward silence hung in the air, and Isabella's cheeks burned.

"Presidente, is there anything I can do to help you relax? I know you won't sleep much tonight, but maybe I can help."

"Well, I think it would make me feel a lot better knowing the men protecting me are not sleeping on the cold hard ground. I know that's what you were trained to do, but I can't have that. Please, take the bed. There's enough room for both of us."

Alvarez hesitated. "I couldn't."

"Alvarez, please. For my peace of mind. You've already done so much for me today. I can't allow you to sleep on the floor."

He gave a resigned nod and moved toward the bed. Isabella felt a flutter in her stomach as he sat down beside her, his presence overwhelming. The bunker seemed even smaller now, and the air was charged with an electricity that hadn't been there before.

Isabella swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. Alvarez turned to face her, his eyes dark and unreadable. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

He laid down, his head resting on the lumpy pillow, his gaze never leaving her. His body was so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Sleep, Presidente," he whispered.

"I can't," she admitted. "My nerves are still on edge. All that's happened today."

He reached out and took her hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "You're safe now."

"Thank you," she said softly. "And not just for saving my life. For being here with me."

His fingers traced circles on her palm, sending a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.

"Presidente, forgive me if this is inappropriate, but..." Alvarez's voice trailed off.

"What is it?"

"You're very beautiful," he said quietly.

Isabella's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding. She was suddenly aware of how close he was, his body mere inches from hers.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You don't need to thank me for speaking the truth," he replied, his voice low and husky.

The tension between them was palpable, and Isabella found herself transfixed by the intensity of his gaze.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing. Was this a dream? Had she actually woken up at all, or was she still sleeping, the events of the day a twisted fantasy?

Alvarez's hand was still entwined with hers, and he lifted it slowly, brushing his lips against her knuckles. Isabella's breath caught in her throat as a spark ignited within her, and she leaned forward, her lips searching for his.

They met in a passionate kiss, their tongues dancing, their bodies pressed together. Isabella moaned, the desire within her growing, threatening to consume her.

Alvarez broke the kiss, his eyes hooded. "Are you sure about this, Presidente? This is highly inappropriate."

Isabella's voice was thick with desire as she spoke. "I want this. I want you, Alvarez."