Fallen Angel (A Call of Duty: Black Ops 2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 6- An Eventful Life

"Okay, so if I see a pack of gum it's yours?" I asked Harper a third time, just to annoy the pissed off soldier.

"It's a blue and green package," Harper spoke through gritted teeth.

I held back a laugh. "What's so important about this gum anyways?"

"It's my fucking flavor! If I don't have it, I don't do it. Period," Harper grumbled.

"I can buy you some," I offered.

"Don't bother," Harper growled and then sulked off to go train.

"What's so funny?" a voice behind me asked as I started laughing.

"H-Harper," I giggled. "He's upset about a pack of missing gum."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Do you know where his gum is?" I faced the taller man and crossed my arms.

"Yeah, because I totally look for packets of gum when I go about my day," Mason rolled his eyes.

"Anyways," I shook my head. "What's up?"

"You've been training for a good month now," Mason pointed out. "I have something other than training for you to do."

"TV and food?" I jumped up excitedly.

"Uh, no," Mason smirked, amused by me. "You're coming with me to pick up some supplies at the port."

"Oh," I shrugged. "That sounds fun too!"

Mason led me to the SUV and then opened the passenger door. I got in without hesitation, trying to think I was forgetting something when I really wasn't.

"How long is this drive going to be?" I wondered.

Mason closed the door and leaned against it, the window down. "A few hours."

"Ugh," I groaned and sat back as he came around to get in.

"You're stuck with me for that time," Mason joked.

I glared at him. "Lucky me."

"To make you feel better, I brought this for you," Mason grabbed a small bag from behind his seat.

It held my phone, headphones, the book I was reading, and a cluster of road games to play. I felt like a four-year-old with Mason. Maybe talking to him would prove that I didn't need the bag of activities, even though it was a nice thought.

~~~

The trees passing by my window were a blur. When I got bored trying to find patterns in the trees, I switched to making beats with the lines on the road. Mason hadn't tried to make any sort of conversation, yet neither had I.

Sighing in defeat, I picked up the bag and opened it. Pulling out my book, I started reading. Mason glanced over multiple times as if studying me.

"The Help?" Mason asked rather quietly.

"It didn't interest me before," I paused. "My mother had been urging me to read it and I feel like I'm respecting her doing so now."

"Ah," Mason dipped his head.

"Were you hatin' on my books?" I raised an eyebrow and looked at Mason playfully.

"Not hating," Mason smirked. "I just didn't expect you to be a reader at all."

"What are you? A reader or non-reader?" I asked.

"It depends," Mason shrugged. "Sometimes I read, sometimes I wait for the movie."