Chris Redfield x Reader

Twenty-Three

With quick steps and still a bit woozy from what had happened, you struggled back down the path and along the other trail until Chris emerged from between the trees.

His all black dressed figure was like a tower in between the white landscape. He was so tall, it was almost intimidating.

The look on his bearded face was calm, but he did seem a bit tense. His green eyes scanned the surroundings as if he expected something to kill him any minute.

At first he nodded at you in approval, pointed to the large metal box that had sunk into the snow, and stood so that he could grab it with both hands.

But when you stood on the other side and lifted the box slightly, he suddenly stopped.

Without warning you, he let go of his side again, with you just barely able to pull your hands away so that all the weight didn't fall on your hands, crushing them.

With a dull sound, the box fell to the ground again. Snow swirled up.

"Hey.", you frowned a little sourly. "A warning would have been nice."

He didn't answer. As if in a trance, he stood there, his eyes fixed on you, and took a deep breath. Slowly he came over to you, suddenly looking so angry.

Uncertainly, you flinched back as he tried to reach out to you.

"What's wrong?", you asked and grinned, hoping he would calm down. "Care to explain why you're so weird all of a sudden? I though we have talked about our issue."

His eyes wandered away from your face, down over your neck and chest. Again he reached out for you.

"Stand still.", he ordered in a calm voice.

Still confused, but glad that he was talking in his usual way again, you stopped and allowed his hand to gently stroke your face. His facial expression changed and he became gentler. Now he looked almost worried.

"What happened?", he asked.

At first you didn't know what he was talking about, but in that very moment his hand was stroking the torn flesh and the scratches the monster had given your face
You winced in pain, squeezing an eye shut.

"Ah, that.", you took his hand in yours so he wouldn't keep touching your face and hurting it further. "An attack, nothing special. The monster is dead."

Unsatisfied with the answer, he pressed his lips together.

"You should have called me."

You laughed.

"Pardon? I'm a soldier, I can take a monster by myself. Seriously, Redfield, I take that as an offence."

"You're hurt."

"It's just a scratch."

"Your neck's bleeding, too."

"It's nothing I haven't survived before."

"I shouldn't have let you go alone.", he frowned, examining the wounds on your neck closer.

You rolled your eyes.

"Chris.", in a soft voice you called his name to make him shut up.

And he did. As his name left your lips, his eyes shot back up to you and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

You raised your hands, took his face and began to gently rub his cheeks with both thumbs.

He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. The hair of his beard go messed up, but he loved how your hands felt against his skin. He loved how soft they were, the gentleness of the touch.

A soft sigh left his lips.

Gently, you smiled. The sight pleased you. Whenever you touched him he was so gentle and calm. Then he became quiet and enjoyed the short moments in which you treated him like something precious.

He had rarely felt like this, rarely had he enjoyed it when somebody had touched him. But with you, that simple touch was enough to silence his mind. His body suddenly felt so warm and he thought he was far away, somewhere where there was only peace for him.

"Chris.", you said his name again because it tasted so sweet on your tongue.

Why didn't you call him that before?

It was a beautiful name and it suited the man as well as a crown.

He opened his eyes again, looking at you apologetic.

"Forgive me.", he whispered, and reached for your hands to cover them with his. "I am only worried."

A gentle smile appeared on your lips.

"I know. You were always the only one who worried."

He had to laugh for a moment. It was a silent laugh but also honest. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed this way.

"That's not true. A lot of people were worried about you."

You nodded.

"But none of them were like you. None of them pulled me out of a burning house, or killed monsters to safe me and none of them were there every day and every night when I was in the hospital and almost died. None of them are like you and none of them will ever be like you. You made sure of that yourself."

At your words, the memories in him were awakened. Yes, the past had not always been bad, even if there had been days when he didn't want to go on.

But it had always been better with you. And he wanted the memories to be a way out in the future, too. But he would have preferred to have you by his side instead of memories.

But he did not say that. It would have been inappropriate and you probably would not have liked it.

"I...", Chris sighed. "I don't think you're weak. But seeing you bleed is so... unusual. It's been so long since we did missions together. It's been so long since you got hurt. I haven't missed that."

Again you had to smile and even blushed a little.

"You talk strange stuff.", you chuckled. "Cut the sweet talking."

Now he had to laugh, a bit embarrassed.

"I'm not...", he cleared his throat and looked at you with a straight face again. "Let's grab our stuff and return. It's getting dark soon and we still need to secure our hideout."

You nodded.

"Aye, captain.", you grinned at him.

He sighed.

"I see, not even a flesh wound can take away your twisted sense of humour.", he pulled a face. "What a shame."