TF2 Sniper x Reader: Memory of Snow (Editing)

Chapter Two

Without any warning or basic manners, Stacy barged inside the room.

"Oh! How rude of me!" She realised, acknowledging the presence of Sniper.

Hah. She probably thought she could do whatever in the room, if Snipes was absent.

Stacy always had a crazy wardrobe. Lime green jackets which practically burnt your retinas looking at it. It complimented her deceitful, green eyes. Ripped jeans, an unwise choice of clothing. Winter was definitely the worst season for "exhibiting" your body. Following behind her was a matching lime green suitcase, which seemed to almost be bulging at the seams.

   "OH MY GOD! (Y/N)! It's so good to see you! Thank god I found you, I needed to talk with your sister, Laura, to find you, this place is like a maze," She squealed, running over to you and crushing you into a bear hug. You could not help it but cringe at her touch and the overly sarcastic mean girl voice she put up.

Yep, that perfume sure smells like entitlement.

Sniper cracked a grin, trying to stifle his laughter from shooting up to the surface. You exchanged with playfully rolling your eyes. Finally releasing you, Stacy began babbling about how you've grown so much since she saw you-- blah blah blah, the usual. Why can't people simply be more creative with their conversations...?

"Oh my god. Is he your boyfriend?" She whispered into your ear. How rude. Talking about a person who was in ear-shot. The question, however, sent a familiar warmth to your cheeks. You had to shake your head to rid of the fluster.

"Mind you ladies, I'm in the room," He chuckled, so much for whispering.

"Oh, him? Wha- No, NO! He's way out of my league." You put up your hands apprehensively; why, of all people, must she involve SNIPER, a mere stranger to her!?

You even had to scowl inwards, 'What a self-deprecating joke. Way to set the mood, Stacy.'

To be honest, you vaguely saw Sniper's smile drop, setting off alarms blaring in your mind, echoing in every crevice.

"Hey, sheila. Quit kiddin', you'll definitely meet someone much better than a crazy ole bloke like me." He forced a grin that did not reach his eyes, it faltered over the last sentence as he gave up putting up a facade. Much like yourself, a blush clouded over his cheeks. Most likely discomforted by the subject of love and both of you shooting self-deprecating remarks at each other, to make the latter feel better.  

Stacy, in it all, just raised a brow. This exchange certainly did not convince her that both of you had that something. Both you and Sniper remained tomato-faced the whole while.

"Where do I put my stuff?" Stacy asked. Okay, for that time only, you were glad she was there to break the overly intense silence.

"Uh, I'll help you," You brought out your hand to help carry the baggage.

She was confused, "Why not him?"

Ah, I see. She wants some alone time with Snipes. Time to bring out the obvious.

"Well, you're sharing a room with Laura and another female colleague, her name's Jennifer. Males are forbidden from trespassing the female barracks, also applies for the latter."

There were three women in each team, taking one class each from attack, defence and lastly, support. Your older sister, yourself, and Jennifer took the secondary roles of Soldier, Engineer, and Medic respectively. Ever since you and the girls were recruited, you were referred to by your first names instead of the class you picked to avoid confusion with the boys. The three of you were considered an 'extra', or a 'sub-class', to assist the mentioned class in and out of battle.

She gave a small nod of the head, disappointed. You carried her baggage which was somewhat heavy even for a mercenary like you. What did she bring anyway? Her whole closet, you suspect.

The walk to her temporary bed was not a long distance but both of you remained silent. Upon reaching, you directed her to the bed, your bed, she would be sleeping in and left the room to give her some time to change and for other matters.

You definitely saw the look of disgust on her face. What a spoiled brat. The bed was not even in its worst condition. Heck, your sister even went through the trouble of laundering your blood and sweat-stained sheets.

You temporarily gave up your own bed to her as you could barely imagine sharing the same small room as her... no, wait. You already did that for six years in your childhood. Your now resting area was simply a pillow and blanket by the window in the living room. A small price to pay to get away from that bitch.

You returned back to your quarters as Stacy took a shower in the bathroom inside the barracks. You began to wonder how she would react when she discovered the weapons hidden under her roommates and your own's beds.