Take a Shot

Jealousy, him

Emerald liked her routines. A lot of people around the castle called her pedantic, and some more daring people called her a bit loose in the head, but Matt loved it. Her love of routines made her predictable, and it made it easier for him to know where she might be at any given moment. And one of those routines, this one, was his favorite.

She would come home from a long mission, which for him was anything over 5 hours of her being out of the castle and this time in particular happened to be a little over 2 days. She would swing by his room and knock to let him know she was home safe and not in the hospital. He would grab a book and walk with her back to her room. He would read, or pretend to read, a chapter or three while she was in the shower. When she left the shower room adjoined to the one next door, all dressed and clean, she would flip her hair forward and towel it off and squeeze out any extra moisture, and she'd ask him about his day. He would tell her things that happened as she made her way to the stool in front of her dresser. She would sit and stare into the mirror as she combed through, moisturized, and braided her hair, and every single time, he would get lost in staring at her. And when his words finally trailed off into nothingness, she would laugh, and he would ask about her day.

That's where they were right now. She was telling him about the transport to the mission, which had been a pain in her ass especially considering how she mostly teleported now unless she was with someone else. And he was just staring. She was always beautiful, in every way and state he'd found her beautiful. But this freshly-clean look was by far his favorite. Was it the matching top/bottom set of pajamas he'd gotten her a few Uziens ago? Was it the care she used in combing out that gorgeous hair, chopped to her chin after a 3-month long mission she'd taken nearly 6 months ago? Was it the feel of her raw power that made his skin prickle, now more than ever, because she left off her anti-magic device when it was just the two of them? He had no idea what was so captivating about these moments for him, but it was the only redeeming part of her being gone for so long.

"And to top things off, the chopper pilot was a man this time, and you know how men piss me off on missions," she mumbled. Matt nodded absently, watching her hands move deftly across her scalp, parting the hair down the middle and beginning to braid. "Not a man I recognized, but he seemed to know me well enough, which just made it worse."

Matt's brain screeched to a halt.

"Huh?"

Emerald lifted her eyes in the mirror to his, her fingers coming to a halt. He sat up on his elbows on her bed, eyebrows coming together.

"I said, he seemed to know me but I didn't know him."

"No, no, I heard that part," Matt said. "What do you mean? Like, in a creepy way? An unnerving way?"

Em rolled her eyes, going back to braiding, though noticeably slower than before. "Matt, I'm an assassin, I'm supposed to be sort of secret. It's always unnerving when people know things about me."

Matt frowned, his heart twisting uncertainly in his chest. He also hated it when other people knew too much about Em, but for very different reasons. He decided to let it go, though. If he said too much about it, she would get upset and the conversation would turn to something different, and he wanted her to know he was a safe place to talk about her day and her frustrations and her joys and her....everything.

So, he couldn't get derailed by this. He shrugged, laying back down and putting his arms behind his head. She stayed quiet for a moment longer, then launched back into what she was talking about. And that, thankfully, was the end of it.

Except now, he was staring at the spot just outside the cafe area, where his woman was sitting, way too close for comfort, to another man. Matt was struck upside the head and inside the gut by exactly two feelings: fear and loathing.