Sucker For Pain ⇒ SUICIDE SQUAD [RICK FLAG] [#1] [COMPLETED]

11 || I'm Sure Kissing Me Isn't Part Of Someone's Professional Life

❝Cause I don't wanna fall in love, if you don't wanna try

Cause all that I've been thinking of is maybe that you might

And baby, it looks as though we're running out of words to say

and love's floating away❞

Say You Love Me ~ Jessie Ware

___

"Are you alright?," Rick asks her, a genuine spark of concern twinkled in his eyes.

"Of course," she shrugs, dusting off her fear.

"No, you're not alright," he makes the decision for her.

"C'mon, Flag," she rolls her eyes, "other than almost being anticlimactically burned to death, I'm fine."

Rick pursed his lips for a moment, thinking about what she was saying. So, he did what he knew best: changing the topic, "Why don't you call me 'Rick'?"

That caught her off guard, "What?"

"Why don't you call me by my first name?," he repeats, "Why'd you always call me 'Flag'."

"Because...," she thought of a reason, but her ultimate conclusion was that she didn't know, "Because I don't tend to incorporate my personal life with my professional one."

"That's rich," he scoffs, "I'm sure kissing me isn't part of someone's professional life, unless you're a hooker."

A renowned smack was bounced off the walls of the little room they were in, echoing in the small area. She had slapped him. Again. There was a small sullen silence, with only their billowing breaths that made any sound, otherwise everything was incoherent.

"There it is," she growled, "That's why I can't even fucking look at you anymore!"

"You're angry because you don't understand why I do it!," he argues back.

"There's no excuse for calling someone a hooker!," she yells, pushing him roughly.

"I'm not making excuses!," he screams, grabbing her shoulders and slightly shaking her.

"You know what? Fuck you!," she hisses at him, narrowing her eyes down.

The silence was back. Even her own breath seemed to die as soon as it left her mouth. It was an eerie sort of tranquility, so instead of being soothed, her senses became heightened. It was as if the world were encased in a cocoon, a bubble, and there was no way out. She felt like the prey, and she knew exactly who the predator was.

Rick glanced at the ring on her finger, wanting to rip it off and throw it into the ocean. But he needed to know if she was devoted to her husband or not, it was a big deal to him.

"Do it," Rick egged her on.

"Do what?," she scoffed, backing up and sitting on top of the coffee table behind her.

"Do what you said you would," he states, clenching his teeth.

"What?," she was openly confused.

"Fuck me," he growls, lowly, "You said it yourself, now do it."

"What the hell are you talking about?," she raised an eyebrow, pushing him away from her.

But to her surprise, Rick didn't budge. He stood his ground, reaching his hands towards her knees and pulling her legs apart, then standing in the space he had created, placing his hands on either side of her on the coffee table.