#zimo cod

Of course! Thank you for liking it! Although I've never formally written about Zimo, I actually really like him! (I thought nobody liked him before, sob sob, but it's so great to meet someone who shares my passion!) I already had this idea, but I only have the chance to write it down now. Thank you for asking!

pov: pure fluff, I won't label the names in the conversation, but remember that the blue text is Zimo and the red text is you! Almost every country in the world has the same first impression of the Chinese: hardworking and reserved. You had this impression of Zimo the first time you saw him.

It was an afternoon, and the buildings at the Spec Gru base were scorching hot. Having just finished training, you were a little tired and found a place to sit down. You looked up and met his gaze from the training field next door.

It was just for a moment. Through his goggles, you saw a fleeting look of panic in his dark eyes. He looked away almost immediately, his profile tense.

It's strange, you two don't know each other, and this is the first time you've noticed him.

Why does he look a little… flustered? You didn't think much of it, and even thought it might be your imagination. Until that mission, he broke through the enemy lines simply because he heard your voice on the radio and it didn't sound right.

And he wasn't wrong.

You were wounded. Two broken ribs, a bullet wound to the abdomen, you could barely walk upright.

Your abdomen ached like it was being burned, and your vision was blurring. The enemy's footsteps were close at hand, and the radio signals grew increasingly faint. It wasn't the radio that was the problem; it was you. Your consciousness was beginning to fade. Then, you felt a pair of hands lift you up. The movements weren't definitely gentle, but they carefully avoided your injuries. Then, you felt a pair of hands lift you up. The movements weren't gentle, but they carefully avoided your wounds.

It was Zimo.

He picked you up and began to retreat. The sounds of enemy fire faded into the distance, and you felt Zimo's rapid breathing and slightly trembling voice.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here." But it sounds like he's more scared than you are.

Before you completely lost consciousness, you heard Zimo speak in Chinese.

“撑住，求你了。撑住。”（"Hold on, please. Hold on."） When you woke up again, two days had passed.

What greeted your eyes was the cold, white ceiling of the hospital room, the clean smell of disinfectant, and the subtle yet undeniable beeping of medical equipment. There was no one else in the room, but the caregiver at the door noticed you were awake. A moment later, a doctor entered the room with several nurses, smiling as they asked how you were feeling, checked the medical equipment, and, as you had expected, gave you instructions for the next few days. A textbook-perfect, cliché process. For the next few days, you were forced to stay in the hospital room to rest.

And all that lingered in your mind was the image of Zimo returning to save you.

Well, actually, it was also because you found his voice surprisingly sexy. "Oh shit... That was hot as hell."

You only realized what you were saying after it left your mouth, and you quickly pulled the blanket over your head, trying to clear your mind.

"Okay, okay, shut up!" A while later, the nurse on duty came to change your dressing.

She was quite nice, gentle and talkative, chatting with you the whole time she changed the dressing, which you enjoyed. Until she asked you a question.

"Is that person who's always outside the ward your boyfriend?" You froze. Boyfriend? You didn't even have a— A cough came from outside the door—it sounded like someone was startled.

Then, Zimo's flustered figure flashed past the ward doorway. WTF. Was that him?

The nurse chuckled softly, taking your reaction as confirmation.

"Him? He's been coming here every day since you came into this room. But no matter what, he just stays outside."

You were still in shock.

"He…he comes every day?!"

The nurse started tidying up the medical supplies, smiling as she spoke.

"Of course! He's such a good boyfriend."

You were practically bursting with embarrassment, trying to explain incoherently.

"No, wait, he's not—"

She gently patted your head, interrupting you.

"Okay, no need to explain, I understand."

You watched her leave with a look of utter despair, thinking: You didn't understand at all…

A few days later, you were finally discharged from the hospital. Breathing in the fresh air felt incredibly refreshing.

Although you were still not allowed to participate in training, taking a stroll would definitely help your recovery.

You walked listlessly along the edge of the training field, and when you looked up—just like the first time you met, you met those dark eyes. Zimo. He had just finished training, his cheeks slightly flushed, shirtless, revealing his well-defined muscles.

The moment your eyes met, he looked away, feigning nonchalance.

His teammates, seeing you, all smiled. They knew exactly what was going on, but clearly didn't intend to expose you, and made excuses to leave.

The noise of the training field suddenly seemed distant, leaving only him, head down drinking water, and you standing there. The atmosphere was subtle. His averted gaze, the movement of his Adam's apple as he drank, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin… it was all too subtle.

Finally, you took a step forward, breaking the silence.

"…I heard you saved me during the last mission. Thank you." He finally looked up to meet your gaze, his fingers tightening slightly around the water bottle.

"Don't worry about it. It's good that you're alright." You hesitated for a moment, then asked the question that had been bothering you.

"…I saw you outside the ward that day. You waited for a long time, but…why didn't you come in?" "I didn't want to disturb your rest." A lie. You exchanged a few words, the atmosphere remaining somewhat awkward. You found a place to sit, side by side, not too close, yet not too distant.

The setting sun cast long shadows on you. Most of the training ground was empty, only a few people remained, the silence so profound you could hear the cicadas chirping.

You gazed at the horizon and suddenly asked.

"How did you know I was injured?"

He put on his T-shirt, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Your voice sounded strange on the radio."

"Why did you go back to save me? You knew perfectly well that breaking through enemy lines alone wasn't a…wise choice."

when my friends ask me to draw something, even if I'm not at all familiar with the fandom, I just can't refuse them lol

Yay!