↳ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹: 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙍𝙚𝙙𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙 - 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 .𝟐

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[ any reader ]

"In position."

"Take the shot."

Finger on the trigger, a rocket soars from the top of the mountain with an eager hiss, thick smoke coughed into the milky sky once it pummels into the defenceless base. Distant screams of dying soldiers as the flames ravage the building and it crumbles to pieces.

You stand and pull the mask below your chin to take a breath of the icy air. White wisps escape your lips, the tip of your nose tingling.

"No survivors. Good work, soldier."

—

"I heard yesterday was a success." Emily raises her brows, knife in hand while she decides on what to eat. You screw the lid on the coffee jar and return it to the spot it belongs.

"One less Russian base to stain the earth."

"Must be nice getting into the swing of things again."

"Brings some sense of normality." You murmur, filling another mug with piping hot water. The door is opened to let a familiar face into the kitchen. "Thought I'd make coffee for everyone."

"Oh." A smile plays on Chris's lips. Something tells you coffee is the one and only reason he set foot in this room. Although the way his pupils dilated when they noticed you suggests he wishes to stay for a totally different reason.

Emily drops her knife into the sink. "I'm just making food for myself."

The nod of his head is a fond one. "'Scuse me." Hands brush against your hips as he passes by. You instantly press your lips together, grip tightening around the spoon so it doesn't slip and clank against the counter. Any added pressure would surely snap itー metal or not.

Emily eyes you both suspiciously.

You scratch the side of your face, reaching out when the jar of sugar is slid into your open hand. A simple glance serves as a wordless thank you.

Emily sticks her head out to the side so it looms over your shoulder in Chris's eye-line. Mouth moving to silently say what the fuck.

You're oblivious. Staring at the spoonful of sugar and the steaming mugs. It's Chris who extends his arm to point to two of them. It's easy to mask your disappointment, your growing frustration at your own mind for forgetting how your friends take their coffee. A task that came so naturally once upon a time.

"You need help carrying those?"

"I've got it." Chris assures.

"Of course you do." Emily looks him up and down, picking up her plate and exiting the kitchen.

When you eventually turn he's stood watching you. If it were anyone else you'd surely speak up, politely ーor not so politelyー tell them where to go instead of gawking like that. You don't seem to mind it when it's him.

"I need to umm..."

A hushed apology as he steps aside so you can open the fridge. He purposely smiles only when your back is facing him. You remember which mugs require milk and which don't. Such a minuscule detail to retain in a chaotic brain yet you did it. He doesn't let you see his proud smileー you'd label it stupid and roll your eyes.