Redemption || MorMor

Dear Tiger

It didn't take Sebastian long to unpack his few boxes of things into the room Jim had allocated for him, just across the hall from Jim's, in fact. It was a nice, spacious room with a large, floor-length window facing East. The walls were white and the floor was plain laminate, but Jim had told him to decorate as he pleased. It had a king-sized, white bed and a wardrobe too big for Seb's small amount of clothes. It had an en-suite and even a minibar, which was the obvious perk for Seb. Though it made him wish that his boss hadn't placed in the 7pm rule.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands, lighting a cigarette. He sighed and contemplated everything. He'd just moved in with a psychopath and agreed to keep him happy. He must be mad.

Stubbing the cigarette out on the plain wall, leaving a horrible mark, he decided to go and find Jim. He was surprised to find him with earbuds in, humming along tunelessly to a song and cleaning the kitchen surfaces. He watched him for a moment or two in the doorway, amused at the sight. Until Jim turned and saw him, taking the music out.

"Sebastian?"

"Was just wondering if there was anything I needed to do, sir." The 'sir' was nothing more than a force of habit he'd gotten from the army. He couldn't help it. But it made Jim frown, though he didn't comment on it.

"Have you unpacked?"

"Yeah."

"Then... help me with the kitchen," he gestured around himself. "It's filthy."

So Sebastian grabbed a cloth and some spray and started to give the cooker a good seeing-to.

"I never normally clean... it's only because I have company. Gotta have standards, right?" Jim chuckled, "I'm going to have to clean everything... your room is the only acceptable one here. And that's only because it was never touched."

"Well, it's a good job I like cleaning, then, isn't it?" Seb looked at him from the corner of his eye and smiled a little, scrubbing the burnt food off the cooker hood. Jim averted eye contact after a moment, focusing on cleaning a very specific area of the surface which he'd already cleaned. "You lived here long?"

"I live in many places. But I've been here about 2 years, on and off."

"On your own?" Seb couldn't help asking.

"Yes, on my own."

The sniper nodded and said nothing in reply.

"How many years have you been back from the army?" Jim asked suddenly.

"9," he sighed. "How did you know I was in the army?"

He looked across at him, "the same way I know your address and that you're stubborn." He was smirking, "and also that necklace kind of gives it away. Just a bit."

"Ah," Seb looked down at it, putting it between his index and thumb, twirling it in the light. 'S MORAN – COLONEL – 37203', it read. He'd worn it everyday since he'd come back. Though he wasn't sure exactly why. "Of course." He put it down to clean again.

"Colonel, eh?" Jim raised an eyebrow, "something must have went really wrong for you to have been discharged without honour."

He looked at him and narrowed his eyes, "I don't like to talk about that."

The shorter man held his hands up in surrender, "okay, okay. I won't bring it up again."

"Thanks," he grunted, looking back at his work and trying not to think of the painful memories the man had just resurfaced for him. Losing his temper a little, he finished and threw the cloth into the sink. "Are there any other rooms I can clean, boss?"