The Battles You Choose

This was written over 6 years ago OTL I forgot Wattpad existed. Anyway to my fellow Black Lagoon fans-- enjoy!

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She was quite possibly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Long tan legs that disappeared under her denim daisy duke shorts that hugged her tight ass in a sinful way. Her curves were shaped perfectly as they dipped at her waist and rose again to run up to her rib cage and meet her breasts that were a little more than generous in size. The tattoo that cascaded up her arm and creeped up her neck often made him swallow before his eyes landed on her long hair. How he wished she would wear it down more often; he'd always loved long hair, but her's was so exquisite. Maybe it was because most women had black or brown hair where he was from, but he loved her dark red hair. What he really loved though were her eyes— more so when they weren't glaring. She had the most dazzling amber eyes; he'd stare into them forever if she wouldn't plant a bullet in his forehead.

Rock never thought in his wildest dreams that he would fall in love with a woman like Revy; a woman who was all gun smoke and alcohol with a bite like a cobra, but the natural beauty of a tigress. She was dangerous and terrifying, but those aspects lured him in all the same. He figured he'd hit his head too many times, or that living in Roanapur had corrupted his views on societal expectations of women, but he didn't care. This was Revy. She was 100% unadulterated. She said what she wanted and did what she wanted and no one could stop her. She was independent and sharp, but raw in every way.

The ex-businessman always assumed he would find 'love' in a Japanese woman with black hair and brown eyes much like his own. She would probably be meek and shy, but kind and gentle. She'd dress conservatively and there probably wouldn't be much of a daring bone in her body. She'd probably be proper and book smart. She would have been the kind of girl he could have brought home to his parents.

But God, after spending so much time with Two-Hands he found the idea of such a girl to be boring. There was a lot to be said about a nice and gentle woman— sometimes Rock wished Revy were just a tiny bit more so. However, there was something grand about a woman who was loud and unafraid. He was proud to be so close to someone like Revy; thrilled that she wasn't the kind of girl he could bring home to his mother and father; ecstatic that she was in his bed right now and that, for the time being, he didn't have to share her with anyone else.

His eyes scanned her figure that was hugged by the bedsheets. Somehow the crumpled sheets that outlined her body's shape made her even sexier. She was laying on her stomach with her face facing Rock. Her hair was a mess, but she slept so peacefully that she almost seemed like a different person. Revy was an enigma, and he doubted he'd ever figure her out completely, but he'd be lying if he said that aspect didn't excite him.

Rock laid his head back down on his pillow while still staring at his bedmate. What he wouldn't give to have more of her, and not just this cheap-ass friends-with-benefits relationship they had going right now. Though he supposed he couldn't complain entirely about their new found role in each other's lives. The sex was incredible and he enjoyed the physical closeness that it brought before and after the fact— like having her in his bed and waking up with their legs entangled, or waking up to find her draped over his body.

Despite this, he knew he wanted something that Revy may very well outright refuse to give. She was like a wild mustang. She couldn't be tamed and wouldn't allow herself to be tied down. Talking about her feelings wasn't something she excelled in— in fact she usually only ever showed boiling rage, good humor, or dry wit; occasionally she displayed that appeared to be sadness lost in a shroud of deep thought, but he could never get her to spill the beans.