Fireheart | Raven Reyes [O.H.]

20 | distraction

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chapter twenty!
DISTRACTION
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( warning: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

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FOR TWO DAYS, nothing happens. Every camper remains on edge for the full forty-eight hours of agonizing tedium. Or, at least, it's tedious to Ares— that isn't to say that the camp has been dull. Blake and Clarke keep them all plenty busy with round-the-clock Gunner posts, weapon-making, and preparation for the inevitable war headed their way like a tsunami crashing into shore. Ares just hates the waiting. While everyone else is restless, filled with anxious energy that keeps them productive and moving, he moves languidly from task to task as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

Blake hates it. Ares can tell by the way he keeps checking in on him, then seems to get aggravated when Ares insists that nothing is wrong. They're all wound up tightly; it's no surprise that Blake wants results and is frustrated when his tactics won't work on Ares. But Blake is starting to act a little patronizing and it's getting on his nerves. Maybe he'll have to cut holes in the man's jacket or something.

It rains the day after most people are recovering from the virus, which Blake can't stand, either. It puts them behind schedule— whatever that means. Most work has to be moved into either the tents or the dropship, forcing everyone into cramped quarters that nobody wants to be in after so many people got sick. The good news is that once someone heals, they seem to become immune, which means the thing won't hang around and further weaken them.

Ares spends that day as a Gunner, standing perfectly still as the raindrops slam onto his body, soaking him from head to toe. The others on duty have their arms wrapped around their bodies in a futile attempt at regaining warmth, but he doesn't move. The downpour is relentless. His curls become plastered to his forehead, droplets dripping from his eyelashes and the tip of his nose. The faint echo of thunder rumbles in the distance. He closes his eyes, basking in the serenity that each bead of water brings as it greets the Earth. It feels like being made anew. Washed of the dirt and oil that had stuck to his skin thanks to the lack of showers. Of course, since it's October and his immune system isn't used to the low temperature, he ends up fighting a cold, but it was worth it.

Things between him and Raven are... strange. If anything, he'd expected them to get along better than ever thanks to him literally risking his life to save her own, but it's like they're back at the beginning. No, worse than the beginning. At least back then, Raven had bothered to talk to him beyond what was absolutely necessary. Now she speaks in short sentences made of words clipped short at the edges like they consist of knives. At first, he'd assumed it had been stress and anger at Collins, but now he's sure it's something else.