#zerohar drabble

[zerolockfan]

The battle was over. Warrius Zero sat down, directly on the ground, too worn out to find a better place to rest. His chest heaved slowly, each breath a reminder of his body’s protest. Behind him, familiar footsteps and an amused scoff, and then a quiet grunt as Harlock slid down behind him. Back to back.

Neither of them said anything. Just the sound of tired breathing. Their shoulders aligned, steadying each other. The comfort of silence between warriors who had spent every last ounce of energy.

Zero closed his eyes.

He didn’t remember meaning to.

Harlock only realized when he shifted slightly and felt the full weight of Zero leaning back. Head tilted slightly, breathing slowed, gloved hand lax on the blaster still holstered at his side.

Sleeping.

Harlock tilted his head back and let out a soft breath. A half-smile, tired and fond, tugged at his lips. He didn’t move. Didn’t tease. Didn’t disturb the moment.

Instead, he allowed the weight to stay against him. Warmth shared in quiet surrender. A rare peace. A stolen pause between wars.

And Harlock whispered, almost inaudibly,

- Rest, Warrius. I’ve got your back.

And he meant it.