Captain

The Hunter Becomes the Hunted (Victor)

Victor would admit, he did come off a bit overbearing. Sandra's plight was one of emotional distress and a logical solution was the last thing she needed. It took four hours after their brief conversation for his phone to vibrate with a reply. He wouldn't have blamed her for ghosting him after his stellar performance at unpalatable insensitivity.

It was in his nature to be domineering and overly constructive with advice. The self-loathing was coming in hot for no reason as he was writing up reports in his office, with his phone right next to him. His hands were moving a mile a minute over his keyboard but his mind was barely focusing on the words he was typing.

He glanced at his phone more times than he wanted to admit. Victor wouldn't say he had many experiences with women but most of the little relationships he's had gave him a small idea of how they operated.

He shouldn't have tried to rationalize her boss's attitude and instead sided with her on the matter but years of his bad habits took over and he fucked up a good thing so early.

She was definitely not going to text back. She was definitely over this-,

Ping!

He snatched his phone up and immediately opened the message. He hoped it was her with every fibre in his being. She really didn't need to ever text back after that but she did, against all odds. He exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He held his phone with two hands and read the message.

"You've clearly never had a boss who treated you as an insignificant joke who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Never been treated like you were incompetent huh? Actually, you're just like him right now,"

Victor's eye twitched at the message, finding the tone of it severely disrespectful and tactless. The message was cold, and spiteful. Victor should have known the emotional insult inside the message wasn't aimed at him but something took a direct hit without warning. He felt like he was hearing a voice in his head that was so tenaciously familiar but he couldn't put a pin on why it was vibrating through his mind. He had to take a single second before he replied. In the end,  he was at fault for the severe passive aggressiveness from the message. He approached this conversation wrong in the first place.

He didn't know what she was putting up with at her workplace. It was only right that he apologized and hoped she understood.

Ping!

Another message followed before he could even write the apology that was on his fingertips.

"As a matter of fact, the way you're acting as if you know what I should do is exactly like him. I bet you're like this to your employees too. I'm sure you barely listen to them, rule them with an iron fist and don't even see them as human beings but just soldiers beneath you to order around. You're just stroking that imaginary ego all the time aren't you?"

Victor closed his phone in a snap and placed it down carefully on his desk. He pushed his hands into his chestnut-coloured hair to push it out of his face in anger unknown but yet he was familiar with it. His mind knew who this anger was always directed to when they spoke. The audacity was an exact replica.

The entire message was a complete shot in his leg. The contents were wrong, of course, because he didn't "rule" his men. He simply acted as his rank obliged him to. He had no other choice but to step up to the responsibilities his duties required of him.

But that wasn't what irked him. It was the tone. The sheer insolence it was embedded with was cutting into his stomach painfully. It reminded him all too much of someone's way of speaking and writing that always without fail pissed him the fuck off.

Victor reached down to his phone and took it up. He unlocked it to stare at the message again. He pulled up his keyboard.

"I'm sorry if I came off that way. You're right. I passed my place a bit and no, I'm not anything like your boss,"

He placed his phone down after he sent the message and then reached over to a red button on his desk. He pressed it and then spoke.

"Lieutenant Knox," He breathed out into the mic, "Please report to my office,"

Ping!

Victor's eyes travelled over to his device on the table. He opened his mouth as he watched another message filter in.

"Now," He commanded with a finality in his voice.

He stared at his phone screen in displeasure. His eyebrows knotted on his forehead in apparent confusion because, in hindsight, it was highly unlikely that the direction his thoughts were going, was the right one. Victor's years of having to use his brain to get out of any situation possible were contributing to this fucked up revelation he had no business even conjuring.

He opened the messages with narrowed eyes.

"I didn't expect an apology, honestly,"

"But it's accepted,"

Victor blinked slowly and retreated his fingers from the screen. His lips settled into a thin line as he felt severe blood rush into his head. Victor was calm, even in the ones that required anger. He was a calm man. He placed his finger down and decided to reply.

"So Sandra, other than your work problems, tell me more about yourself. I'm dying to know,"

The door opened right as he pressed sent and Knox's boyish slim face appeared. The small amount of freckles littered over his nose seemed to be highlighted by the ray of sunshine piercing through the small circular window next to the door. Brown caramel eyes met dark coffee brown in a tangible lock. The awkward tensed silence clogged the room in a snap.

Knox walked in and stopped right at his desk, with zero joy on his face, as if this was the last place he would rather be. He saluted but no greeting followed as he should have because lately, the man seemed to have learned a smidge of superiority instead of proving himself deserving of his title.

Victor looked down at his phone, and back to Knox who stood there innocently, waiting for the reason why he would be called to his office when Victor barely cared to see the man's face unless it was needed.

There was no answer to his last message which made his hackles rise in too much unwarranted doubt and suspicion because it was too uncanny that the replies stopped the moment Knox was in the room. That was insane. Victor was sure too many days at sea was driving him out of his goddamn mind.

Knox would never-,

"Knox," Victor breathed as he settled his palms on the edge of his desk and lifted himself from his chair. They were trembling a little from holding back his questions.

"Sir," came the driest response that could leave a lower-ranked officer's mouth to his captain. Victor held in the venom that was about to drain from his lips. He inhaled shallowly. He stared into Knox's unwavering eyes, which always stared right back into his without even blinking. He remembered a scared boy from back then, a scared untrained idiot. He's never thought of his lieutenant as anything more than a boy that was throwing his life away but for some reason, that image wasn't correlating with the Knox in front of him now.

But the woman he was planning to drop everything for the moment they were off this fucking ship. He just couldn't shake the suspicions and it clawed at his sanity.

"Answer truthfully, without even a single lie, soldier," Victor stated as he leaned forward towards Knox over the table.

"What do you think of me?"

Author's Note

💁🏾And the plot thickens💁🏽