Whitewashed

Deserter

Chapter 18: Deserter

“No! No, no, no! You can’t just walk away!” I chase after him, but he speeds up his steps a bit so that I am jogging to keep pace.

“Yes, I can,” Haz replies, chin up, but with a clear smile in his voice.

I give a huff, “You have to answer my question.”

“No, I don’t.”

“YES, you do!” I manage to grab his wrist, but this does little to stop him. So I find myself being practically dragged in his wake due to the substantial difference in our body masses.

He chuckles, “Besides, I thought I wasn’t allowed to call you honeybee anymore.”

“W-well,” I stutter, not really knowing how to respond, “You aren’t.”

“Then why does it matter?” his tone is humorous.

There, I am lost for words. My grip naturally slips from his arm and I slow to a stop, fighting momentum and watching him continue to walk away until he turns his head slightly, confusion written across his expression.

“I thought you were hungry,” he shouts to me, the distance between us being enough to call for such volume.

I pull my lips to the side, “I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” he turns toward me, apparently in a better mood now that he’s gotten me flustered, and gestures to the road that lies ahead. “C’mon.”

Grumbling, I follow him, but still can’t refute his argument.

We walk along together in silence, but this is a nice silence, a quiet that I can fully appreciate.

Even if the conversation had been heated, I feel much better than before. Haz MEANT to protect me. He GAVE me the bandana. Of course, it had originally been for selfish reasons, but can I really blame him? Look at what happened.

I was rescued because of his actions, even if the timing was almost TOO convenient-

My thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

Most of me wants to believe his explanation wholeheartedly, no questions asked, but the rational part of my brain, or what’s left of it, wants to know if he’s lying.

Could Haz have really planned all that out?

The kidnapping? The rescue? My self imposed forced acceptance of his offer?

It COULD just be circumstantial, but he seemed to know exactly what he was saying.

It hadn’t sounded fabricated and yet…

I let myself be conflicted about the issue until we reach the town and my companion turns toward me, “Feel like eating anything in particular?”

“Nope, but whatever it is, we’re BUYING it. We clear?” I arch an eyebrow at him.

“Yes ma’am,” Haz winks, displaying the totality of his dimples.

God I missed those.

The thought is reflexive and I want to curse at myself.

Turning away to hide the blush that undoubtedly creeps onto my cheeks, I gesture to the supermarket, “Why don’t we just go pick up some sandwiches or something?”

“Sounds good,” he agrees and we head in the direction of the larger building.

However, halfway there, Haz abruptly stops walking.