Solid Snake leaned against the railing, the hum of distant machinery filling the pause between them. Angelina Jolie studied him with a raised eyebrow, half-smile, testing the silence.
Snake spoke first, voice low, measured.
“Let me be clear. With me, no means no. Always.”
She tilted her head. “That’s not how some men in your line of work think.”
“That’s why they’re wrong,” Snake replied. “On missions, forced entry gets people killed. With women, it’s worse—it strips them of choice. I don’t play that game.”
Angelina crossed her arms, listening now.
“So what do you do when someone says no?”
Snake gave a faint shrug. “I stand down. I holster the weapon. Put the trouser snake away,” he added dryly. “Respect the boundary. End of mission.”
A beat passed. Then she smiled—approving, not flirtatious.
“Funny,” she said. “The most dangerous man in the room is the one who knows when not to advance.”
Snake looked out into the dark.
“Real strength,” he said, “is knowing when to stop.”
Snake met her gaze, unflinching.
“There’s another line I don’t cross,” he said. “I don’t lie about love.”
Angelina’s expression sharpened. “You mean—”
“I mean I’ll never tell a woman I love her just to get closer,” Snake finished calmly. “Words like that aren’t tools. You don’t use them to unlock doors.”
She studied him for a long moment. “A lot of men think that’s harmless.”
“They’re wrong,” Snake said. “Love isn’t a password. If I say it, it’s real. If it’s not real, I keep my mouth shut and my distance.”
A faint smile crossed her face, this time with respect rather than challenge.
“So you fight clean,” she said. “On and off the battlefield.”
Snake nodded.
“Deception has its place,” he said. “Just not with someone’s heart.”