Decipher | Watty's 2017

LXXVIII. Frondeur

Frondeur

/ˌfrônˈdər/

noun

a political rebel

It had been weeks since the incident between Luke's father and I, and while I couldn't bring myself to fully understand Luke's reasoning for not wanting to have a higher level of commitment, I had grown used to the idea. Everything was perfect; however, when the problem of the colony lacking food and necessary medical supplies came back up, we were forced to plan another raid. Although Luke was not fond of the idea of me coming with the boys and their group of soldiers, I had forced my way into the small group and was now sitting in the back of the van that was commonly used on our raids.

Luke was glaring across the aisle, our knees almost touching as his eyes consistently met mine with a berating look covering the expanse of his face. I shook my head as if to say 'not here,' but he didn't seem to take my hint as he shook his head and continued with his glares. When we reached the city where we would search for supplies in, Luke was the first out, gathering his men and assigning them with each of the boys to determine the separate groups' main goal.

The look on his face was serious as he assigned each person a group leader until he was left with only me. He rolled his eyes slightly at my bored expression as I stood with my arms crossed over my body and hip jutting out, almost as if I was challenging him to make me stay in the van instead of taking part in the raid.

"Melissa you can be in Michael's group," he spoke up, pointing in Michael's direction, but catching my arm as I went to join the rest of my group. "I want someone covering you at all times," he muttered through gritted teeth, gripping my arm not too tightly but enough to give me the impression that he was serious.

I rolled my eyes, which only caused him to tighten his light grip as if he was challenging me to go against his wishes. "Okay, sir," I responded sarcastically, receiving a growl from Luke in response as he didn't take too kindly to me joking about my well-being.

"I'm serious Melissa," he warned me, looking into my blue eyes with his crystal ones throwing daggers towards them. "I want you to be safe and taken care of," he finally said, running his hand through my hair and moving stray pieces behind my ear to reveal my face as he cupped my cheek. He leant his forehead up against mine, looking into my eyes with gentle curiosity and amusement. "I can't lose you again," he muttered, molding his lips with mine gently.

"I love you," I whispered against his lips when we pulled apart, remembering the agreement we had made over a year ago to leave each other with the intention of never seeing the other again. His hands had made their way around my waist during the kiss, encompassing me within his hold. "I love you so much Luke Hemmings," I spoke softly against his lips as I connected them one last time before pulling out of his grasp.

"Come back to me Melissa Jennings," he said into my ear softly as I walked towards the group, sending Luke a look that promised him that would return to him. It was then that Luke gave each of the people in charge of the groups their assignments, each of them nodding slowly when he spoke to them. Michael approached our group with a grave look upon his face, the essence of fear radiating off of his men as they took in his posture.

"We are in charge of the medical supplies," he said strongly, creating an animosity within the group that seemed to radiate as he spoke. It was the unspoken unsettledness between all of the men that caused my body to turn rigged, unsure if this was good or bad. "That means that everyone needs to grab two partners and stick with them," he continued, speaking to the men gruffly as if he were annoyed by their scared behaviors.

My eyes met his, an unspoken agreement to stick together. Before anyone could be chosen, Michael gripped the wrist of one of his newest members, holding him close to himself and whispering into his ear before signalling for me to join the pair.