For the Love of a Patriot || 𝗖𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗔𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮 ✔️ [#wattys 2018]

22 | She Knows

~Somebody That I Used To Know~
~Gotye~

•••

"We can't do this," I mumbled, holding the frozen spoon to the bruised spot on my neck. "It's a recipe for disaster."

He looked up from the other couch. He was in his own thoughts about how to approach this conversation we were about to have.

Halfway through my dress being removed, I'd come to my senses. I told him we had to stop, and he didn't give me any argument.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking down with a twinge of shame. I lazily raised an eyebrow. "For the situation or the hickey?"

His lips parted and he wanted to smile and make a quip but my eyes narrowed by only a little and he could tell it wasn't the time. "Both."

I took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm glad we stopped before it got out of control."

He fidgeted with his hand, cracking his knuckle quietly.

I noticed his quietness and sighed. "Steve it was the right thing to do. You and I probably aren't supposed to even be friends, due to the terms of our protection agreement."

"The protection agreement relays that I'm supposed to protect you at all costs, Rachel." He looked up at me.

I creased my eyebrows. "Excuse me, but where in the agreement does it say that we can have a relationship?"

He took a breath and looked up at the ceiling. "I was comforting you. I apologize."

"And I get that I made the first move, but I understand that this," I gestured between the two of us. "Can't happen. All of this damn tension between us, it can't happen okay? You have a job to do. What we did can get you into trouble." I clenched my jaw.

He shook his head and sat back, folding his arms and looking away. I tilted my head with a frown. "Don't do that, act like this is typical. You don't know me, Rogers." I narrowed my eyes.

He looked at me with a face that didn't believe what I was saying. "Rachel, I've lived with you for seven months. I know more about you than you think."

"Oh, you really think so?" I scowled, mockingly. "You think that because you're doing your job, you're entitled to know what's good for me and what isn't?" My voice began to get hot.

"Like you said, it's my job." He threw back.

I gaped. "It isn't your job to take advantage of my emotions!" I threw down the spoon. "I'm not some poor girl who doesn't know what's good for herself, I've been depressed, not stupid. I'm strong willed, I'm independent, I can take care of myself! I don't need you super powered hypocrites taking it out and feeling bad for the little guy." I grit my teeth.