scars do heal

3. on the hunt

The trigger tickled your fingertip as you exhaled slowly. Your body remained entirely still as your eyes stayed completely focused on the target far in the distance. In military training, your Seargant always said you had an eye for sniping, and you were happy enough when that was the role Price had tasked you with.

I need someone watching our backs from the tree line. That's gonna be on you, rook. Keep an eye on our asses and stay outta sight, got it?

This was a big moment. Your big moment. You needed it to go perfectly.

Leaning over your resting post, you held the butt of the gun against the soft tissue just under your shoulder and closed one eye to focus better. Everything became clear and you let your bullet fly. You were inches from the target, the bullet hitting haystacks propped up behind it.

"Shit," you hissed to yourself, reloading your gun and eyeing the pristine target accusingly. "Fuckin missing target, just aim properly you stupid idiot."

"Well shit, maybe I should give the boys that kind of motivational speech before we head out tonight." Price appeared behind you. You hadn't seen it, but he'd been observing you from behind the firing safety line, watching you practice. You'd missed the first couple of shots and he could hear you quietly muttering to yourself in annoyance. You were a perfectionist, that much he'd come to learn since knowing you.

"Captain," you turned on your heel, lowering the gun so the barrel wasn't pointed directly at your superior officer.

"Easy, rook. Just here to help." He came up beside you and placed his hands on your shoulders, spinning you back around to face the target. "That model you're holding is a little more tricky to handle, but I've seen you in the field. You got this." Price moved so he was standing behind you, bringing his arms around your body and placing his hands on the weapon. "Just move it up a little like this," he muttered into your ears, adjusting the gun slightly. "There you go. And if you grip the gun here like this..." His fingers curled over yours, pulling your hand back on the barrel and keeping his hand enclosed over your own. "Better balance and it feels more comfortable, yeah?"

You nodded, adding a little hum of acknowledgement since you didn't think you could speak with his hands on yours like this. It was the closest you'd ever been to the Captain, and you didn't realise how large the man was until you felt his arms around your body.

Keep it together. He was your Captain. Fuck.

"So like this?" You gripped the weapon tighter in your hands, feeling the balance weigh itself out so the gun was not as top-heavy as you realised it originally felt.

"Exactly," he whispered, removing his hands slowly, his fingertips brushing over your wrists before his touch receded from you entirely. "You got it."

Exhaling once again, you focused on the target through your scope and fired, the shot residing in your ear and ringing through your head. The target pinged and a bullet hole was left in the dead centre of the red circle. You smiled, turning to Price who was smiling just as brightly back at you. "What did I tell ya, rook? A natural, right before my eyes. You did good."

Your heart skipped a beat, and the wind blew between you both. A warm breeze, but it cooled you for just a mere moment. It was a strong enough breeze to stray the hairs that framed your face, pushing them in front of your eyes. Still holding the gun, you blew them out of the way, only managing to move the hair from one side.

Price's hand moved up to your face gently, pushing the strands out of your face and behind your ear. He looked everywhere but your eyes, whereas you couldn't keep your focus off of his. Neither of you said anything for a moment, the sounds of gunfire and chatting filling the silent space between you.