FRAGMENTS ; Simon Riley

Chapter 12.

ROSALIE

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"She wore a smile like a loaded gun."

AFTER that unexpected encounter in the corridors of the building, I never saw him again. I'd only catch glimpses of his shadows, or even the trails of his cologne around the place. I felt his presence everywhere, even when he wasn't there. It was almost like I was cursed, I was starting to hate that fucking man. Married or not.

I saw him regularly at work but we never exchanged a single word by mistake, he avoided me as if I had a fatal disease. And if he ever needed any documents, he would ask Soap or Gaz to collect them from me. Ridiculous. Ridiculous. RIDICULOUS.

No one cared about the tension between me and him, which was also a good thing, but it could've also been that they knew the real reason behind all this.

At least to me, he kept telling me to stay away from him, without an explanation. I would've preferred at least a normal relationship between colleagues, instead he preferred to be exaggerated and give me the cold shoulder.

With a snap of fingers, my thoughts vanished, and I found myself in the base's gym.

The air smelled stuffy, like male hormones and sweat. I almost felt nauseous. "Did you get what I said?" Johnny questioned me, tilting his head to the side as he picked up the weights once again.

He had asked me to join him at the gym, and I did. I had simply come to do some cardio, but we got lost in small talks while he continued his weight training. "Yeah, how funny." I faked a small laugh, which he picked up and smiled in return.

I looked around in annoyance, there were some rookies being trained by a sergeant, other soldiers lost in their sets. Then my eyes fell on one person in particular--and who else if not the devil in person.

He was standing in front of one of the mirrors, weights in his hands, which he lifted with no effort, occasionally letting out a few grunts.

I pictured him without that damned mask; drop-dead handsome with those sharp, mature features, those cold brown eyes, and that little permanent frown that made him look even more handsome.

He would drive anyone crazy, you would've never guessed it from behind a mask like that, especially when a half a skull was sewn into fabric.

Then my eyes moved, and widened slightly. Oh, come on, Rosalie.

He was wearing one of those tight black T-shirts, perhaps a compressor shirt, and a pair of shorts of the same color. His muscles were clearly visible, tightening and relaxing with each lift. And only now did I notice a series of tattoos on his left arm.

It was completely covered in ink, an entire war permanently drawn on his skin; they were all objects that we used as basic mission tools, grenades, weapons, barbed wires. Everything was there.

I was so enchanted by watching him that I didn't even notice it myself. "Rosalie." Johnny called out to me, snapping me back to reality. He watched me intently, noticing my attention was somewhere else, and he let out an amused chuckle.

"Aye, ye watchin' the lieutenant?"

My head slowly turned to him, and my face contorted into a confused look, "Speak English."

"The lieutenant." He gestured with his chin towards Simon, who hadn't still noticed us. "You were looking at him like a teenage lover."

Fuck, got caught red handed.

"I always look like a teenage lover, leave me alone MacTavish." I rolled my eyes, blurting out a small excuse that made him grin stupidly.

Then an idea popped in my head. What if he knew something about him? About his life and possibly about the existence of his wife? Would he kill me for asking? Nah, I had my own reasons.

"He's so weird." I started, crossing my arms as my gaze never left the lieutenant. "How so?" Johnny asked with curiosity, lifting again the weights. "He doesn't look at me, he doesn't talk to me, he doesn't want me near him. Is his wife that jealous?" I mentioned the subject among the questions, hoping this Scottish man would understand.

At my words, he stopped and looked at me, "Wife? Oh yeah, he actually never talked about his wife. We just know they're married and she works in the SAS too, different units," There was a little pause.

"I suppose so. Because I never saw her around. Not even a picture. He likes being secretive."

Good job, MacTavish. That's just what I needed to know.

"But then again, he likes to keep his privacy. I just know he's thirty-three and loves teas."

Okay, I didn't need to know that.

My gaze still lingered on Simon, so focused on his training, before his gaze connected with mine through the mirror's reflection. We kept that eye contact, not daring to break it first. Like a competition.

His eye twitched, as if he had raised a questioning eyebrow. The man that you are, Riley. Fuck you.

With a sigh, I broke my eyes away and grabbed my towel, swinging it over my shoulder in frustration. "I'm going back at home. See you tomorrow." I patted Johnny's shoulder before leaving the gym.

I walked through the busy hallways of the base, keeping my gaze down while I checked a few notifications on my phone. "Excuse me— excuse me, hey, watch out!"

And before I knew it, I bumped into someone, sending me against the wall. "Holy.. hey, are you okay?" The soldier asked me with concern, and I immediately looked at him, then at the bouquet of roses in his arms.

They were so beautiful that it hurt. A deep red that made my heart ache, their scent reached my nose so quickly. A migraine hit me all of a sudden, my face contorted in pain.

"A rose a day keeps the bad mood away. Yeah, love?"

"Sergeant, are you okay?"

A deep bloody red, just like your favorite color. Remember of me whenever you see one.

"Sergeant, you're pale."

Should I get you an eternal rose? No, what about a thousand of eternal roses?

"Rosalie."

This gives you luck on missions, I thought you'd like it since you love roses.

I hate roses, their scent makes me dizzy.

I hate them.

I despise them.

"Rosalie, can you hear me?"