You betray my trust and you think you can come in here and treat me like I'm... like I'm..." She struggled to find the right words to say but Micah scoffed and dropped her hand and stared her directly in the eyes.
"You really going to stay mad at me...
A/N only a short one I'm afraid but I have writers block which is no bueno lol. Anyway, hope you enjoyed nonetheless love u all and thanks for the support <3
With trembling hands, Natasha Fiore ran her fingertips over the short tassels of her once long hair, pinching the whole entire lock just between her thumb and index finger. Her breathing was heavy as she let go and pushed both of her hands through the remainder of her hair, short on the sides but still somewhat longer on the top. It was messy and chopped but it framed her face. Her jawbone was now prominent, no longer hiding behind the cascade of brown hair that used to reach down to her breasts.
She looked down at the knife she had used, a dismantled pile of her hair on the floor beside it.
She leaned back on the wooden crate she was sat on and looked to Kyro beside her, an unreadable expression on his face.
"How does it look?"
"Bad."
She blinked at his single word but nodded, understanding why it was probably bad. Kyro and Alex had offered to cut it themselves but she knew it was her who had to deliver the vital blow. It was very uncommon anywhere to see women with short hair, only men could so she didn't know how people would react upon seeing her; if she sees her family again that is.
Her mind did turn to Micah, who heart plummeting to the pits of her stomach. He was a judging character of a man, a man with a very rough exterior and harsh tongue to him so she could only imagine the worse if she were to see him again which him was quite frankly not liking her or finding her beautiful anymore.
"Do I look like a man?" She then asked, looking away from him and to the knife which still had some remainder of her hair on the steel blade.
"No... you still look like a woman. Just with short hair." Kyro stated, resting his hand on her should comfortingly. She glanced at his hand for only a second and then let out a heavy sigh.
"Well that's not what we want, is it? I need to look like a man."
"And you will." He confirmed, whistling once for Alex to soon appear to the other side of her, a large roll of bandages in his hand.
She looked to the bandages and then looked back and forth to Kyro and Alex, both with a sceptical look on their face as they watched the disbelief form in her eyes. "Are you joking?"
"No." Alex replied as he dropped the bandages into her hand. "If you want to look properly like a man, you need to hide your womanly features I'm afraid."
She stood up and played with the bandages, her stomach churning before nodding and finding somewhere secluded so she could get down to it.
She undid the buttons to her shirt, letting her breasts and skin breathe from the fabric that had trapped them in.
She took a deep breath before she place one end of the bandage to the side of her breasts before gradually unwinding the remainder of the bandages, wrapping it around her torso completely to flatten down her assets.
She took the end of the bandage in and glanced down at her now flat chest. Her breasts were still somewhat visible as she was quite heavyset in that area but it was better than it was before. She put her shirt back on and made her way back over to the men, Ricardo now joining them as they watch the woman emerge from the trees, her hands out to the side. "What about now?"
"Much better." Alex nodded in confidence, his eyes landed on her short hair and then to her strapped up body.
"Now..." Ricardo clasps his hands together, "let's get ready to fight."
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"I can't believe we lost Javier." Dutch complained, sitting on the cot after a huge fight erupted from Fussar's men, Javier being shot in the leg and captured in the process.
"Me either. This is a goddamn mess." Arthur muttered, coughing slightly as he spoke, wiping the blood and phlegm that landed in his hands onto his dress pants.
Micah was on guard duty that night, his hands shaking with rage and fear as he stood by the small base they were at, Hercule having just left them until the morning.
As the others drifted off to sleep, Micah nursed a bottle of beer that he had found, consuming it's all contents in a few gulps before tossing the bottle away, his hands resting on the grip of his revolvers as he stared out at nothing.
He stood like that for an hour or so until his legs got tire, causing him to move and rest by a tree, slightly away from the other members of the camp. He closed his eyes briefly, hearing nothing but the squawking of unfamiliar birds and animals in the area.
When his mind turned to Natasha however, he felt nothing. The more he thought about her, that's how he began to feel; like nothing. A life without her would be nothing to him. He wasn't one to fall for people or even like people but when he did, he did hard and fast. No other woman would've ever compared to his first love.
He looked down at his bare feet, a feeling growing inside of him as he covered his mouth with the back of his hands and his eyes tightly closed before the unimaginable happened - a sob erupted through his body.
His other arm wrapped itself around his chest, as if trying to contain his emotions but it was no used as the tears rolled down his cheeks and his head bashed backwards against the tree roughly as another cry raked through his body.
His sobs were silent, afraid he would wake the other men to see him weak and vulnerable but the thought of her gone was too much to handle.
"God... you really are a piece of fucking shit."
He was not a religious man, just a seeker in the world. He let things happen as they come and go, always having a plan for something but now, his brain was swarmed wit a fog of memories of her and him together. They way she laughed which made him laugh, something completely foreign to himself.
He gathered himself back together, pushing his painful emotions to the side and wiped the tears away aggressively. "Get a grip, Micah."
He switched a few hours later with Bill, patting his shoulder roughly to wake him up and tutting slightly to tell him to get on watch, taking over his bedroll where he laid down, somewhat feeling relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever.
He thought about what Hercule said about him getting a boat for them but if they fought with him against Fussar, he hated the thought of himself getting himself killed for a bunch of darkies but then again, he fell in love with a greaser. The thought made him guilty, knowing he should no longer have that outlook on people anymore but it still made him mad that they were practically being used for a safe passage home in return.
Then again, he may not even want to return home. Back to camp without her would be horrendous. He knew he'd be the one to tell Kieran about her, knowing that the pair were relatively close since everything.
He sighed and closed his eyes, praying that somewhere out there, she was safe and thinking about him.
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this is what i imagined her hair to look like btw so you can imagine it more clearly, i kinda rushed this chapter but yeah.... short hair, don't care
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