Tiny writing nook

You wouldn't kiss that man even if it meant saving your life, let's be honest.

You worked together, much like you did in the past. But the dynamic you had pre meeting Piers Nivans, the love of your life, never actually returned even after cutting yourself off.

◇

"I saw him again."

You didn't even start with a 'hello' or a 'how are you doing?'. You just went straight to business as the door to the temporary safe house slammed shut behind you.

Jake didn't even look up from the phone in his hand, re-reading the newest information from his contact to go over the job one more time.

"Didn't know the Jarhead Clan was here."

"Would you stop calling them that? It's getting old."

Your answer was as immediate as returned fire in the field, and your glare was anything but friendly. The sudden change in moods wasn't something you were proud of, you were like a live grenade these days, but to hear Jake call the BSAA troops 'Jarheads' one more time—

You might actually end up strangling the guy.

"Right, sorry, Crayon Eaters then. Grunts."

Jake was about to go off of an entire list of colorful insults for the BSAA but warningly raised index finger seemed to put him to a momentary halt.

"Alright, I get it. You're a little sensitive about your ex's occupation."

"I will rip out your jaw and shove it up your ass."

And that actually got him to smile. Little shit thinks he's funny, huh?

You just met the one man on earth to actually get you to behave, he hesitated to open fire at you and Jake over here thinks it's funny to laugh about Piers' job.

You're actually going to rip him to pieces.

And despite all your anger and sudden burst of violence, you eventually decided to look over your gear and check it before the two of you inevitably had to go outside again.

◇

The silence would've been deafening if not for the sharp clicking of firearms echoing around the space.

Your backs were turned to each other, your feelings raging like an angry storm while Jake was as calm as an undisturbed puddle of water.

"What did he look like?"

His question was quiet but it was there, alive and breathing in its intensity of inquiring what you felt after the surprise reunion.

"Tired. Some stubble growing, guess he was in the field without many breaks for the past few weeks."

Your answer was a little hesitant, like you weren't sure if you should really share your thoughts with one of the only men you could still trust.

"He's able to grow any kind of beard? He's got the most baby face-d baby face I've seen."

"You can't take anything serious, can you?"

The sudden snap of patience mixed with the slam of metal on wood suddenly grated on Jake's nerves aswell.

But he wasn't in a mood to argue. It would only lead to an actual fight and they didn't need that for the contract if the BSAA's suddenly around town aswell.

So the two of you just stared at the other. Jake with that unreadable glare, you with the stare that held actual murderous intent.

"Then pour your heart out, [Your Name]."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

Jake sounded almost incredulous at your defiance. He didn't understand you sometimes.

"No means I'm not going to do it if you're acting like that."

Okay, now he really didn't understand you.

"Act like what? Are you really this much of a sissy because of a joke?"

"I'm not going to share my thoughts and concerns if all you're going to do with it is turn it into a joke, Jake!"

"Jesus, it was a joke! How senstive do you want to be, [Your Name]?!"

The fact that he raised his voice at you pushed you to the point of exploding.

But you never quite reached that tipping point. Instead you shot him a specific glare and turned away to go back to your things.

You didn't want to explode in his face. You still had to work with him, you actually liked the guy.

You constantly needed to remind yourself of that.

So you took the five minutes of silence, listening to his grumbling that did nothing good to your mood before you cleared your throat quietly.

"He hesitated."

Your words were rough but with Jake actually staying quiet for once, you didn't actually care about how you spoke.

"He was ready to shoot but eventually didn't. Instead he just stared while I stood over the corpses of his colleagues."

Jake only hummed monotonous as he listened to your information about the encounter.

He could already imagine what Piers might've thought of in the moment. He seemed in love with you aswell, Jake should've figured Piers wasn't man enough to actually follow his words.

Not at first anyway.

"He's still got it bad for you."

Information you really didn't need to hear from Jake. You just came to terms with the fact that Piers would actually try to throw you behind bars the next time you meet.

To think about that there could be some sparks left behind ignited an aching feeling in your chest you really didn't need at the moment.

"Don't be ridiculous, Muller."

The fact that the response came hesitated, that it came with such little conviction from you just sealed his suspicion.

That soldier still did something to you, even if you tried to deny it with your entire existence.

"Whatever you say, [Your Last Name]."

But all you see whenever you look at him is this dumbass who keeps on running his mouth.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Over the weeks the two of you spent in the wastelands of Africa it finally dawned on you how much you missed the old times.

Simpler times, in a way.

When this whole 'saving the world' thing was something you two would've laughed your asses off not too long ago.

When you didn't fall hopelessly in love with a certain BSAA operative.

When his blood wasn't known to be the cure to the C-Virus.

◇

"I thought you were into blonde federal agents?"

Your voice was a teasing muse under the huffing and puffing of the effort that transpired between you two.

Your head tilted while those steel blue eyes of his focused back on you. The slightest curl of a smirk tugged at his lips before he moved to adjust.

"I was. For a time. But y'know, things change."

The smile that adorned your lips was nothing if not effortless beauty. The slight breathy hint to it was something he was always attracted to. No matter the setting.

And he certainly didn't mind it now.

You.

Him.

Breathless from physical effort.

Until your foot came flying for another lethal kick.

One Jake evaded with infuriating ease. He sidestepped and caught the limb by wrapping his arm around your calf.

"You had something with that Birkin girl, didn't you?"

You asked with a grin, not at all bothered that he had you captured in an iron hold.

You simply balanced your weight onto your other foot and watched his face like a hawk.

"That's hardly any of your business, gorgeous."

His answer only solidified your point.

You knew something happened between the two. You were sure of it.

There was a time where he didn't run after you. You were dead set convinced that it was Sherry's doing. She had him by the affectionate leash.

"Oh, you totally slept together."

The huff that came from him only worsened your teasing streak.

Jake pulled you forward by the captured leg and used the momentum to try and capture you in a hold.

But you were like a slippery eel. Using your agility to evade his grippy hands and land some mean punches to his torso.

◇

The impromptu training session was oved with neither of you admitting to defeat.

Strong egos, I see.

"You two were cute together, you know that?"

The words were a simple murmur.

A sweet notion to the connection that grew between Jake Muller and his federal agent.

If it just wasn't for the fact that you were cleaning up the bloodied skin on his face.

Maybe you two were too rough with each other.

You didn't look any better. Probably.

You weren't sure.

"What is it with you and droning on about Supergirl and I?"

He asked from his seated spot, those piercing eyes of his watching your face like a hawk. Like it was his mission to file away any and every little reaction that crossed your features.

It was almost sweet.

"'Cause it gives you a reason to stop running after me."

"Am not running after you."

"Gorgeous, you asked me out for dinner or drinks every time we've interacted since that job back in Italy."

A scoff came from him. Of course you'd keep count of such a thing.

He did try often, didn't he?

"Never heard you complain about it before."

"The attention was nice."

That seemed to catch his full attention.

So you did enjoy it as much as he suspected? Cheeky, he'd have to give you that.

"But you weren't what I was looking for."

"You wanted someone like that jarhead?"

His voice was a little rougher, the octave lower as he retold a fact he still didn't fully believe.

"Exactly."

"Yeah, well, see where that got you."

The tension that came after was less than welcome. It was clear Jake hit a nerve with that one.

But he was right. Loving a man like Piers Nivans with the kind of life you wanted to live was predestined to end horribly.

One singular word.

Miserable.

Very much so, to nobody's surprise.

You've vanished off of the face of the earth like in an instant. The one thing you were good at actually.

Days bled into weeks and weeks morphed into months.

Now think about Piers breaking it to Chris that you've left and went rogue again.

They had a long talk about what happened. About what Piers had said to you before slamming the door in your face and Chris couldn't help but acknowledge some part of his soul felt bad for you.

I mean, you made your choice. That's on you to keep living that life.

But he knew how down bad you were for his lieutenant. He knew how much you loved Piers.

Yet to know that you've chosen the life over love was something that was just so...you. Chris was aware that you wouldn't change. He had hopes, yes, but he knew.

Piers couldn't save you.

Not the way he might've wanted to.

And now you're gone. Vanished without a single trace. Nowhere near anything that might be associated with the BSAA.

◇

Something changed. Some part of him was missing.

He tried to drown himself in work, taking up more than he should be able to chew — field work, intructing the newest generation, the likes.

Piers just couldn't get rid of this void in his chest.

Like a part of his soul was ripped out.

He tried to deny it. Tell himself otherwise and try to convince these bad thoughts swarming through his head.

Still he knew it deep down. He missed you. A lot.

He missed your presence. Your voice. Those outrageous comments only you managed to come up with. Your laugh.

He missed it all.

This emptiness left behind was a spot you used to fill.

He hated it. That you've managed to affect him this way despite being gone.

And it was noticeable.

Piers has never been more agitated for a longer period of time than a few days. The team caught wind of it immediately. It was like walking on eggshells with him.

The sniper would blow up at the tiniest things. Cursing and complaining before he stormed out of the room to cool off somewhere.

And it was something far too out of character for him to the point Chris had dragged him aside for a chat.

◇

"Maybe you should take a few days to yourself, Piers."

Even just the voice of his captain was driving Piers up the wall.

His jaw clenched at the mere prospect of being sent home yet again for something as stupid as this.

Piers was aware that his outbursts were unreasonable. That he was in the wrong here. But some part of him just denied the justice of it all.

"I'm fine, Chris."

He sounded anything but fine. Chris could hear every ounce of anger bubbling just beneath the operative's skin.

"No, you're not. You're emotional. Too volatile. The team's avoiding you like a live grenade. That's not healthy."

Chris was reasonable. He was right. Piers was overreacting.

And he hated every single fucking second of it.

Piers hated a lot of things and this conversation had to be pretty high up on the list at the moment.

"I'm not emotional, Captain. I'm just having a bad day. Everybody has those."

"You've been having a 'bad day' for weeks now, Piers. You either get yourself together or you'll be suspended from any further operation."

Oh, crap.

"Suspended? For what?! I said I'm fine!"

The tension practically started to boil at the moment. Chris picked up on it immediately and he leveled his lieutenant with the according glare.

Piers was fuming.

"If this is about [Your Name], you should consider a therapist. [He's/She's/They've] been gone for basically half a year now. Keeping emotions bottled up isn't going to help you, Piers. And it most definitely won't help the team."

Now that seemed to put a stop to his tyranny. The anger simmered down to simple irritation, he despised that Chris was right. Again. As always.

He wanted to stay angry. He wanted to stay horrendously mad at something he decided on months ago. He wanted to be mad at you for choosing the criminal life over the love you felt for him. He wanted to hate you for it.

But the respect he had for Captain Redfield reluctantly helped ease some of the irritations. He was right, Piers was in the wrong for dwelling on feelings to the point they interfered with his work. He couldn't exactly afford that as a BSAA operative.

"I don't need a therapist, Captain. I'll deal with this on my own."

He gruffed in reluctance, keeping his glare off to the side until he forced himself to look at Chris.

"Good. Talk to me if you need those days off. I'll get them through."

Piers literally saw how his Captain softened up at the prospect of having his right hand man concede and follow his advice.

◇

Your tounge darted over the split skin of your lips. The iron taste of your own blood spreading over your tastebuds as an ever present reminder. A reminder to the life you've chosen to lead.

One filled with violence.

With death.

With temporary happiness.

Your eyes were trained on the corpse of your latest inconvenience. Those empty eyes stared into your very soul while you pondered with the burner phone in your hand.

You've brushed hands with death so often, the prospect of causing or suffering through it had been desensitised to you years ago.

Blood was the least of your worries. Corpses were simple obstacles. The idea of taking a life was an option you've always considered.

Maybe Piers was right. Maybe you should be put behind bars.

The more you thought about it, the more—

Your lips pursed gently while your gaze darted to the reflective screen of the device. The less than savory blade of your knife twirled and swung in your opposite hand as you weighed out your options.

Call or leave it be.

Hear that voice or heed your own promises.

Your thumb moved before your brain had the actual time to consider what you should be doing.

Soon the rhythmic buzzing errupted from the device, trying to connect the call from across the world. You've raised the phone to your ear, waiting and watching to be picked up at last.

You nudged the body before you with your foot. The arm flailed weakly before it hit the ground again with a less than satisfying thud.

Poor bastard.

You really did him dirty with those injuries.

Maybe hitman work isn't your type of thing after all—

"Hello?"

Your breath hitched as the voice filtered through the line and reverberated through your ear.

That timber. The slight roughness getting caught in the back of his throat.

You didn't know how much you missed it until now.

"You were right."

Your voice was quiet but it was steady. Like you didn't want to disturb anybody around despite everybody else in the room with you being dead.

"Took you a while to figure that out. Almost seven months, really? You couldn't have called sooner?"

The smile curling on your lips was anything if not an ounce bashful. He's always been like this. Complaining about the tiniest things.

"Oh, I apologise, your majesty. How dare I take some time for myself to figure things out and get over this whole love drama."

"Yeah, you should be sorry. Grovel on your hands and knees and beg for my forgiveness at this point. You really hurt my feelings disappearing like that. I thought we had something special."

There it was.

The sarcasm you had almost forgotten.

Was he always this likeable? Must be the lack of contact. Had to be.

But you couldn't suppress the smile threatening to grow into a grin either.

So you occupied yourself. Your form lowered into a crouch to wipe the bloodied steel of your knife on your victim's shirt. The once crisp white fabric now drenched in red from the initial injuries and now your repurpose for a napkin.

"Want me to kiss your boots while I'm at it?"

"Ew, no. I don't know where that mouth's been."

You couldn't help but laugh. It was a sound you hadn't heard from yourself in a while, that's how much it surprised you.

You stood back upright and opted to stroll over to the lounge sported in the middle of the spacious office.

The dull thud of your butt hitting the cushion was an odd sound among the carnage around you.

The dead body of a guard slumped further into the side of the couch's frame on the opposite end. Great company, you had to admit.

"So what's the glorious reason you've decided to grace me with your virtual presence then? After months of radio silence."

The question came after a solid moment of silence. As if the fact that you were continents apart had nothing on the bond the two of you still shared.

It was good to know that at least someone still liked you.

"Been taking up a few jobs. You know, the usual. Drank my liver almost into a coma. Twice. And I've been feeling kinda lonely lately."

You droned on as your gaze caught the glint of your knife. The blade spun in your grip, executing a few tricks before you just started to throw it into the air and catch it again.

"Are you objectifying me, asking for a booty call at this hour?"

He sounded almost offended if it wasn't for this inconspicuous lilt of his smile bleeding through.

You swear, every time you talk with this man, you just knew when he was smiling and when he wasn't. You could hear it in his voice.

"Not a booty call, Jake. Just wanted to hear a familiar voice."

"Oh, you're sentimental. That's even worse."

"You are a horrible person, do you know that?"

Yeah, being exasperated wasn't even beginning to describe how you felt talking with him.

"Please, I'm the most charming guy around. You just can't handle a little teasing."

"Your idea of teasing is just blatant insulting, Muller. The only thing anybody could count as charming about you is the fact that your mug isn't completely atrocious."

"You love my not-completely-atrocious mug. Otherwise you wouldn't be staring at it every time we talk."

If there was an invisible camera around, you'd be staring into it with the most blank expression you could muster.

Of course he'd brag about his looks.

Goddamn idiot.

"Where else am I supposed to look at when we talk? Your left tit?"

"Objectifying me again. What's the matter with you, buttercup? My right one looks better and you know it."

The chuckle puffing from your lungs again reminded you just how much you missed these interactions. Having gone solo for months now wasn't the best for your health.

Calling Jake was the only good idea you had these past few weeks.

And it seems that the sound of your amusement managed to put a smirk on his own face. Not that you could ever see it.

"Still considering going federal?"

You asked after a short moment of silence. Your voice was quiet. Gentle almost in its approach, like you tried not to scare an animal off.

"Nah. That's not my style. Supergirl tried to convince me though, as much as she could. But I think I'm good on my own."

"That's..good to know."

....

"You want me to come around, don't you?"

"Don't get any ideas, Muller."

Your tone was warning but it lacked any kind of heat you normally would've carried.

"Wouldn't dream of anything, [Your Last Name]. Give me a time and a location, then I'll consider visiting your sorry ass."

"You love my ass."

"Would you stop treating me like I only care about sex?"

"HOW DOES THAT EVEN—"

You put a stop to that sentence before it was even fully out. That sudden outburst caught you off guard but it amused Jake enough to pull a huff of laughter from him.

You took the second to calm yourself and take a deep breath. The knife was clutched in your curled up palm, using it as a useless stress ball before you sheathed the blade and finally pushed yourself off the sofa.

"I'll just figure something out. Text you when I can. I need to go."

"I'll make sure to bring flowers."

The call ended with a beep and you immediately pinched the bridge of your nose.

Jesus Christ, you almost forgot how much this man loved to ragebait people.

You looked around the place again, viewing your less than savoury masterpiece of death and blood and decided – now was the time to get out of here.

Cops would come soon and you'd rather be gone by then.

So you made sure you left nothing behind, got rid of any evidence or clue before making your way out of there like Houdini but if he stole a wallet and didn't want to be registered for theft.

◇

As shitty as you felt and as much as you mourned the loss of love, you tried to make due with whatever you could.

If that 'whatever' had the form of an old friend of yours, then that's fine aswell.

You just needed something to get your head out of your ass and think clear for once.

————————————————————————

The click of the lock sliding back into place was the only sound that echoed through the small area that was the entrance of the apartment.

You took a deep breath through your nose when the noise of softened footsteps padded down the hallway.

"Where have you been, [Your Name]?"

The voice was as soothing as it was frightening you at the moment. Your head turned just in time as Piers made an appearance in the living room. The arm was still there. The bionic one.

Right, the docs told him to keep wearing it so his body could get used to having a limb again.

"Uh, somewhere? Not important. How are you doing?"

You deflected rather quickly and slipped your jacket off your frame to hang it up.

You knew he noticed the bruises almost instantly. Your face was probably blooming in all kinds of violent colours.

Piers merely observed you as you sauntered your way over, his gorgeous hazel eye flicking over your features as you tried to change the subject.

"I'm doing fine."

But his flesh hand reached out nonetheless. His digits cradling your jaw with a carefulness that made you think he held onto something precious. Something fragile.

"What did you do, [Your Name]?"

As much as his touch made you want to melt into him, the tone in his voice was a stark contrast. He was serious. Adamant about knowing what had actually happened.

And you had half a mind to tell him off.

But that look in his eye. This quiet worry he felt more comfortable with showing lately. It had the words die in your mouth.

"I was with Jake. Went over to his place for a talk but we ended up sparring instead. You know what? Doesn't matter, I've got my frustrations out and you're looking like an angel sent from heaven."

Of course you'd hide your vulnerability beneath bravado, backtracking in the middle of your sentence to throw out another compliment. The muscles in Piers' jaw jumped at the comment. He might appreciate your compliments on some occassions but right now? Right now it annoyed him more than anything.

You still had this stupid habit of hiding. He didn't like it, not even for a bit. He had made it clear before that you could trust him. Not just with your life but with your feelings aswell.

"[Your Name]. Stop deflecting."

"I am not deflecting."

"You are!"

You cut him off with a quick kiss, your lips squishing against his own in an effort to shut him up before you pulled back just as quick.

And it worked.

Piers did end up speechless. For a second.

"That won't help your case."

"You sure? I can be quite persuasive."

He only glared at your attempt at seduction. His grip had tightened just a fraction on your jaw, feeling your muscles give way under the pressure before you leaned in again.

One of your hands snaked into the short hairs on his neck, gently carding through them before your nails dug into the skin.

A sweet gesture that was supposed to soothe him while that cheshire smile on your lips should've disarmed the man.

But Piers seemed immune to it all.

Shit.

"What did you two talk about?"

Your act dropped rather quickly afterwards. Of course he's focused on finding the truth rather than play into the flirtatious attempt of his very own [girlfriend/boyfriend/partner].

Dickhead.

"Things?"

"What kind of things?"

"Piers—"

"I need to know if those bruises came from you running your mouth again or because Muller has lost what little sense he had left."

He clarified while his hand tugged your head back in his direction. He wouldn't allow you to look away. You weren't getting off the hook this time.

"Piers! Jesus Christ! We talked about work! My work, his work, the past we had, the lives we lived!"

You weren't exactly planning on telling the truth but his scrutiny mixed with the emotional hold he always had over you...it didn't seem fair to keep him in the dark.

And he paused in return. His good eye watched your expressions like a hawk, the space between his brows scrunching together into a furrow when he realised what that meant.

He knew you missed your job. What you used to do. How you used to live.

But he made it clear that being with him would mean giving up that kind of life. He wasn't about to fall in love with someone who was still a mercenary, still lived that life, still killed people and steal things.

He had hoped you would understand. And you did, or at least you said you did.

Nevertheless, he noticed the change immediately.

His grasp on your jaw softened into a simple caress, his thumb brushed over your chin before the limb dropped altogether.

You couldn't even meet his gaze after that.

"It wasn't a good way to live."

"Yeah, I know that."

The scoff that pushed itself out of your throat could've been mocking for Piers, if he hadn't watched your every expression like a hawk.

He was aware of every little contrast you have ever shown over the course of knowing each other. It was scary how easily he could read you.

You've told him multiple times, as a teasing remark, of course.

But now? Right now you just brushed past him to reach the bathroom and take care of your injuries.

◇

The suffocating silence that wafted off of you like a stench of despair fueled the tension with a weight that went beyond heavy.

Piers knew that something was up. Something had to be up to have you acting this way. He just couldn't find out what was eating away at you like this.

And majority of the evening had passed before his patience finally gave out.

He hated to see you this way.

This quiet shell that roamed the apartment like a phantom.

As much as he disliked to admit it, he missed that you were practically glued to his ass. Your presence turned into a comfort the longer you stuck around.

And now that the two of you were in a relationship, he slowly found himself yearning for it. Your wit and comments. Your grabby hands. The obvious admiration.

But he'd rather jump face first into a room infested with the C-Virus again than ever admit any of that.

"Alright, talk to me. What's the matter with you?"

His question didn't even phase you anymore. You figured he'd hound after the truth one way or another.

You just continued cleaning the already impeccable apartment. Both of you knew it was just to stall though.

Piers had every corner squeaky clean. It was the military discipline that had him strung this way. Dirt meant lacking effort. Lacking effort usually lead to death in his line of work.

When you spared him a glance from over your shoulder, you saw him right where he seemingly always stood.

Just a few steps away and his arms crossed over his chest. His bionic limb hissing softly as the compressed air in each artificial joint managed to escape. His face was free of an eyepatch, leaving him bare and vulnerable in a way that had your heart stuttering for a fraction.

"I didn't actually cut ties with my contacts."

Clean and clinical. Just rip the bandaid off. It was no use to tip toe around the truth with him. Piers was too sharp for that.

And you didn't even both to wait for a reaction as you went back to folding the fluffy blanket you often shared with the man.

Piers on the other hand? His eyes narrowed, his jaw bit down before he shifted his weight on his feet.

He knew what it meant. Unfortunately.

You lied.

"I was there when you sent those texts."

"Yeah, well, fakes. Weren't the real ones."

"So you lied to me?"

You didn't have an answer for that one. Well, it was a clear 'yes' but saying it would mean that it was real.

"You deliberately lied to, what? Keep yourself in a line of work that will end up with you dead in a coffin?"

"I thought—"

"No, you didn't think. That's your problem. You don't think. We've had this conversation before, [Your Name]. That line of work will only get you killed rather sooner than later."

The look you directed at him was a mix between perplexion and maybe an ounce of genuine hurt before you dropped the folded blanket onto the couch.

"What the fuck, man? I'm aware of the risks, I've been doing that work for the past eight years."

"That doesn't warrant any approval to keep going!"

"You didn't have any issue with it when we were in Lanshiang?!"

"Because you were a useful asset, [Your Name]! Back then I didn't know I would fall in love with you, otherwise I would've talked you out of that long ago."

Yeah, well, voices kept rising. Arguments kept being flung around and the respective frustration kept growing inside the both of you.

It felt like eons before your patience finally snapped. Your body advanced towards him for a less than savory shove to Piers' chest. It was unwarranted and definitely unnecessary but you are about to reach your literal limit with him.

"You went back to the BSAA! You literally lost your arm and eye for that organisation and got an official resign paper for it. Still you went and got re-enlisted! Why should I leave the only life I've known behind while you continue yours as if nothing happened?!"

"Because that is no way to live, [Your Name]!"

Piers practically forced himself into your personal space as he stepped back forward. He didn't care for convincing anymore. He was sure you were too dense to see the problem.

That you just didn't want to see it.

He absolutely despised it to argue like this with you.

"I can't be with someone who's constantly balancing on a blade's edge just for the fun of it! Both as a soldier and as man! You know that being a mercenary basically puts us on oppsite sides?!"

"Oh great, the moral line! Jesus Christ, Piers, merc life is the only life I got! Nobody wants to hire a practical enemy of the state!? I can't find a normal job with the record I got!"

Both of you just glared at the other person. A battle of wills. A clash of egos. Morally good against morally grey.

Now that you thought about it, this romance was doomed from the beginning, wasn't it?

It was only a matter of time before the fuses blow and the pressure slams outward.

A mercenary and a soldier.

What did they call it?

Star crossed lovers?

Jeez, you don't even remember.

This blind anger clouded you mind like a heavy fog. It reminded you of feelings you didn't feel in a long time.

It scared you even. Scared you to love Piers any less because of it. That some part of you, some lingering, petty part would always hate him for his righteousness.

That his ideals of good and bad were so restrictive. A clear line drawn with no exceptions. Despite you being that exact exception.

"I'm out of options, man! I sure as shit won't work for the military or whatever institution still grabs convicts like they got plenty to use! I'm not going to sit on my ass all day either while you're out there getting deployed to fuck-knows-where!"

Your voice was an ever rising tide. You figured it wouldn't take long until you started shouting at each other but it still broke your heart to see that surprise flickering over his face.

Seems like Piers didn't expect you to shout at him either.

And despite his fuse already short enough to blow up in your face, he bit back on the bubbling insults and complaints he shoved down since day one. Every single one of his frustrations with you threatened to spill out like an entourage of mean words and even meaner intentions.

"That's what usually happens when you live the life of a criminal, [Your Name]!"

"Oh, and I'm nothing more than a criminal all of the sudden?!"

"You always were just that! A criminal! Someone who should've been put behind bars a long time ago!"

The huff that left you was like the anger and frustration leaving you in a heartbeat.

So he did just see you as that? Not as his loving partner? Not as the person that dragged him out the deep end? That risked [her/his/their] own life to save his? To make sure he got that cure?

You were just what the file told him. An insurgent. A mercenary. A danger to his mission. To his squad.

Someone who's carrying the names of his fellow soldiers and colleagues like a grocery list. Someone with too much blood on [her/his/their] hands to still feel the sticky, crimson substance as mere phantoms left behind.

"I don't get why I didn't do it right after I was discharged from the hospital! Why Chris didn't do it all those times you've visited. You were right there! Right in BSAA territory! You've done so much bullshit on record that the judges would've given you fifteen life sentences and then some!"

Yeah, well, seems like those vices Piers tried to keep on his own thoughts didn't hold for shit.

And he just kept spewing it out like venom.

Every remark.

Every comment.

Everything he ever thought of you.

It all hit the spot. Home. Your heart. Your gut. Wherever you body tried to direct it next.

And the more he rambled on. The more he complained about everything you've ever done or said.

It shrunk whatever tender moments you tried to hold onto. Every little moment of affection or vulnerability between you two. The fuzzy feelings turned into desperate anguish the longer Piers went on.

As if you were stupid enough to belief anything could've grown between you two except the chasm your lives wedged between you.

◇

You felt too empty to cry. Well, you wanted to ball your eyes out. To cry a literal river that would sweep you away and out of his life but the tears never came.

Like some part of you was still to proud to show any weakness infront of him.

Piers had long resorted to packing a bag for you. Consistently grumbling about how he "wanted you to leave before he puts some handcuffs on you".

And you could only watch him as he stormed from the bedroom to the bathroom and back, slamming whatever he could grab into that wretched dufflebag.

It wasn't until he came back and practically slammed the bag into your chest, that the tears finally started to well up.

"All of your shit summed up in one bag. Get out."

He sounded so final. So angry. The anger in his system overrid like every other emotion he could've felt.

The heartache in his chest was barely a thorn in his side.

Maybe he wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe he was overreacting at the moment.

But he was just so frustrated. How much more did he have to convince you to finally see reason? How much more did he have to rip himself apart just to keep you on the right path?

He was done with it.

And this little confession you just had? The argument that bore out of it? That was just the last straw for him.

He shoved you back and out the door within seconds. His bionic hand grabbed your jacket on the hanger and threw it at you, watching how you barely caught the fabric before your bottom lip started to quiver.

Piers has only seen you cry a handful of times. It barely even scratched the surface of your vulnerability, but it managed to rip him apart every damn time.

To see you cry usually meant something was really wrong. And to see you cry because of him dimmed the anger just the tiniest bit.

He was still furious but seeing you like this broke his heart.

"The next time I see you, you're going to jail, you hear me? I won't hesitate."

The door slamming shut in your face was like a lock to your fate. Sealed shut and inescapable.

And you could only leave and mourn the loss of a man you thought to be your forever.

————————————————————————

Chris: "I hope you won't sneak out on us again?"

You: "Okay, first of all, I didn't sneak out on you guys—"

Piers: "Right, you full on sprinted."

————————————————————————

Piers talking to Chris: "[Your Name]'s still an insurgent and dangerous. We can't trust [him/her/them]."

Chris glancing over his shoulder to look at you:

You currently catching Finn after convincing him to do a trust fall from one of the Rovers:

Chris turning back to Piers: "Dangerous is debatable."

————————————————————————

Andy: "Have you seen the way the Insurgent looks at Nivans?"

Carl: "Real romantic."

Ben: "Have you seen the way Nivans chased [her/him/them] out of the recon tent?"

————————————————————————

(The incident in question)

You: "Jeez, if you put this much focus into maintaining your rifle, I bet nothing around you ever leaves unsatisfied, sugar."

Piers, refusing to even look at you: "Do you always have to be this annoying?"

You, grinning like you've won the lottery: "Honey, I'm charming. But continue clutching that cleaning rod so tightly and people might start to get ideas."

(Cue you running out of the tent with Piers stopping short of the rolled up flaps, cleaning rod in hand and a mean glare watching after you.)

————————————————————————

Finn talking about Chris: "Is he always this awesome?"

Piers, speechless for a solid second before he shook his head and turned to walk away:

You, having eavesdropped and falling into step with him: "Come on, you think the same."

Piers barely glancing at you: "Shut up, Insurgent."

You, practically grinning at his attempt to hide away his own smile:

————————————————————————

Finn to Piers: "To fight Bioterrorism, Sir!"

Piers: "I know what we're here for, Rookie."

You, clutching Ben's tactical vest and roughly dragging him closer: "He'll catch a stray one of these days."

————————————————————————

You: "Why are you built like a double door fridge?"

Chris, looking up from his report comically slow to meet your gaze: "What is that supposed to mean?"

You, sitting down on the edge of the table: "You're built like Arnold Schwarznegger in his twenties. What's up with that? Got someone to impress?"

————————————————————————

You: "Well, aren't you just a tall glass of water?"

Piers: "You just got shot! Stop with the flirting?!"

You, pausing for a second to look at the bullet wound in your chest: "Oh shit, you're right."

You, again after a minute of tense silence: "Stuff your finger in there, might just moan in return. Pain and pleasure are pretty close on the scale."

Piers, exasperated and beyond done with the operation: "Jesus Christ, [Your Name]!"

————————————————————————

Chris: "Don't distract him from his duties. We need him on point."

You: "I could flash him with everything I got and he'd be more interested in a B.O.W. anyway."

Piers: "Please, don't ever do that."

————————————————————————

Finn: "Explosives are set and ready to detonate! Just say the word, Captain!"

You, piping in before Chris could actually answer: "Alright, blow your load then, Rookie!"

————————————————————————

You, dismantling a gun with ease while keeping intense eye contact with Piers across the table:

Piers, refusing to back down and keeping his gaze locked on yours:

Carl whispering to Andy: "Either they're going to kiss or slit each other's throats."

Ben just piping in: "The sexual tension is turning radioactive at this point."

————————————————————————

You, having taken down a crowd of J'avo and continuing on your way: (over the comms) "Still my guardian angel, babydoll?"

Piers, disgruntled and glaring at your form through the scope of his sniper rifle: "I told you to stop calling me that."

You: "And miss that cute little vein popping out of your neck whenever you get like this? Not a chance. Babydoll."

Piers, grumbling and resisting the urge to fire a round right into the back of your head: "One of these days..."

————————————————————————

Finn, turning to you as the Team finished up an operation: "You should come with us back to HQ sometimes."

You: "I'd love to, doll, but your superiors would have my head."

Carl: "You mean Lieutenant Nivans specifically?"

You: "LT Nivans specifically."

————————————————————————

You, catching a glimpse of Piers' dogtags through his shirt: "You should let me wear them."

Piers, looking at you before he watched your finger point at the solid steel necklace beneath the fabric: "Why?"

You: "You'll have a reason to come back then."

————————————————————————

Ben to Andy, Carl and Finn: "Get yourself someone who looks at you like [Your Name] looks at Piers."

You, simply staring at Piers with the most heart-eyes looking heart eyes possible:

————————————————————————

Special cameo!!

Jake: "Man, I'm so hungry I could literally eat a [Your Name] [Your Last Name]."

Piers, turning comically slow to look at Jake: "What did you just say?"

You: "LT's the only one who can eat me."

————————————————————————

You: "Oh, bite me, Muller."

Jake, already grinning like a moron:

You: "You're a freak, I forgot."

————————————————————————

Jake: "Where's the puppy?"

You: "Where's the blonde babysitter?"

————————————————————————

Piers: "You had something with that other insurgent?"

You: "Maybe. Maybe not. Why? You jealous?"

Piers, incredulous to why you even ask that: "Not visibly, no."

————————————————————————

Jake, leaning against the frame of one of the rovers: "So you and [Your Name]?"

Piers, elbow deep in grease to work on the engine: "That's none of your business."

Jake, grinning like a cheshire cat: "Oh, there's totally something."

————————————————————————

Jake, just fishing for a reaction: "Let's be honest, I'm the better man for [Your Name]."

Piers, barely glancing at the other man: "There's a reason [he/she/they] left you."

The three of you were quite literally fighting for your lives.

The platform shifted along the structure, doors opened and enemies kept on pooling out like insects.

It was horrible.

And this bickering between Piers and Jake just grated on your nerves even further.

Your body hurt, your lungs were burning, you barely had any ammunition left and the sniper's constant nagging was eating away at your last straw.

So with the sudden might of a bulldozer, you kicked off a J'avo like a Spartan. A grunt ripped from your throat with the effort but the sound of Piers speaking up again pushed away any fatigue.

"You can't imagine my delight at having to escort your ass outta here!"

"Jesus Christ! Do you ever shut up?!"

Two voices spoke in unison. Yours and Jakes.

Both of you were reaching their nerves' end and it showed.

The furrow between Piers' eyebrows deeped almost impossibly when his glare snapped from the J'avo he fought off to you and the other man.

"It's like you're a nagging child, Nivans! Get your head out of your ass, shut your goddamn mouth and make sure none of us are dying in this fucked up hellhole!"

You bellowed loud enough that Chris and Sherry could've heard it from the other side of the tower.

That's how irritated you were.

Both men paused for a second at hearing your complaint but they kicked back into gear fairly quick.

"See? I'm not the only one you're pissing off!"

Jake tried to throw in but he couldn't even get the sentence out properly before your body turned halfway from a struggling J'avo to point a warning index finger at him.

A loud "AH!" came from you in that very second. A proper sign that you didn't want to hear anything from him either.

And Jake? He just stared at you for a minute before he punched another J'avo in the face and kicked them off the platform.

"Should've gone with Chris and Blondie."

The words were a mere grumble under your breath. A silent complaint about your own choices while the three of you continued to fight of advancing enemies like they pissed you off personally.

◇

You barely had a moment of quiet as both platforms ascended further up the construction.

Your [eye colour] eyes found Piers' as he already looked through his scope, ready to assist his Captain from the other side.

A puff of exhaustion left your form when you briefly glanced at Jake, who kept his eyes on the surroundings to make sure there weren't any surprises coming your way.

Your hand connected with the sniper's back in a soft gesture, your fingers hooking themselves over his shoulder to hold onto him.

"Didn't mean it, sugar. I apologize."

You breathed out, swallowing back air like there wasn't much left around you before you parted from him again.

Your hands slotted themselves onto your waist instead, using the short moment of peace to catch your breath while you looked around yourself.

You didn't know if he heard you. Or even acknowledged you. But it didn't matter at the moment. Piers knew you were frustrated. He should know that at least. It was a shitty moment and his constant talking was throwing you off your game.

"We should really get a drink after this."

Your gaze snapped over to Jake almost instantly.

Did he seriously just say that?

But he just looked smug. That stupidly handsome smirk curled up on his lips again while he mindlessly reloaded his gun and tipped his head to the side.

"Not into alcohol."

You replied and waved his idea off before you checked over your own firearm aswell.

You didn't even see how Piers went rigid behind you. How this casual flirtation between you and that insurgent allerted the soldier in a second. How he tuned in on your response the moment you said it, how you said it.

But he just kept his eyes on his captain on the other side, watching as Redfield and Sherry had a moment to catch their respective breaths aswell.

"Oh, come on. You used to swallow tequila like it was water."

"That was three years ago and I remember suffering through kidney failure because of it."

"Then dinner?"

"Jesus, Muller."

The chuckle that resonated from you felt like a knife to Piers' heart as he remained crouched by the edge.

He couldn't stand listening to you two.

Not when Jake was so buddy buddy with you.

Not when you allowed his flirting to get to you.

So he did the only thing he could. He got up, turning to face the both of you and even walked right up to Jake to position himself more or less between you two.

A stupid move, the longer Piers thought of it.

But he couldn't help himself.

Not when you two were so close to each other.

"Quit the romantics, insurgent. We aren't out of the red yet. Save it for when we get out of here."

His tone was serious. Absolute. Like a true soldier, that didn't want anybody's head to stray from the mission.

But Jake saw through it in an instant.

He saw the way Piers shifted to slot himself between you and him. He saw how he bit back his own words. How his eyes flashed with an anger that had nothing to do with his dislike for the mercenary.

Oh, it only served to amuse him further.

And you? You just stared at Piers before a smile tugged at your lips and you shook your head in gentle sways. You just opted to concentrate on your firearm as you took a few steps away from the other two.

"Oh, did I step on your territory, puppy? Sorry, should've made your claim more visible."

The condescension in Jake's voice only angered Piers more. They both knew he was just fucking with him now. And he hated it.

Hated that Jake knew this piece of information now.

That he knew you were off limits as long as he was there.

Piers hated how far this has gotten. How far you've wedged yourself into his mind. Into his heart.

He hated you for it. He hated himself for it.

But he wouldn't just stand there and watch Jake try whatever he was trying with you like he wasn't even there.

"Watch it, merc. Otherwise your companion can go back to the United States alone."

"Oh, is that a threat?"

"That's a promise."

Jesus, it was like watching two cats about to maul each other on a street.

But it was the most entertaining sight you've had in a while.

Two egos clashing.

Testosterone at its finest.

And all because you indulged in a little flirting.

So he did feel at least something for you.

Oh, you were over the moon.

"Alright, fellas! How about we concentrate on escaping now, yes? I'm sure Redfield's going to come up with something in a minute or two."

You chimed in out of the blue, clasping your hands together in a single muffled clap before you approached them both.

One of your hands reached for Piers' arm to turn him a little before it slid onto his chest. Just to really catch his attention.

And it did.

His hazel eyes found yours merely a moment later following his little staredown with the other mercenary.

That look he gave you, this serious glare you adored so much — whatever self restraint you still had, it kept you from imploding on the spot.

How was a guy this handsome?

Like, Jake was hot in a dangerous way.

Chris was attractive in a rugged way.

Piers? Piers just looked too gorgeous for the military.

You still questioned his choices of not simply pursuing a modeling career or something but you weren't complaining. If it wasn't for his life at the BSAA, you wouldn't have even met him. So you were happy enough.

And it was like clockwork when Chris' voice echoed over the comms.

"We'll reach the top soon. Be ready for whatever comes next."

But you and Piers just kept your eyes on each other.

Your lips quirked upwards into a smile prior to your hand slipping from his chest.

Meanwhile he, in his desperate attempt at keeping up his military facade, soon stepped back to turn away again. His hand reached up for the earpiece whilst he bit out his response.

"Yes, sir."

But you watched him walk away, your smile turning almost flustered until you glanced at Jake still standing by your side.

And he just shot you a look that foretold he knew that little something between you and the soldier.

"Shut up."

You croaked out in your ever growing flusteredness, your smile just growing until you just had to avert your gaze from him.

"I didn't say anything."

Jake replied while his smirk grew into a simple curve of amusement. It was always fun to see you lose your marbles over something as trivial as feelings. Although he did feel just a tiny bit of disappointment that your heart beat for a man like Piers this time. You could've done much better than sticking with a soldier, of all people.

But all of it was interrupted when the platform changed direction to ascent to the top one last time.

The mechanism soon hissed to a stop as Chris and Sherry approached on their own elevator, reuniting the five of you once more.

Follow him or do your job.

Stay with him or run off to your objective.

Love or fortune.

A torturous decision you had to make.

"[Your Name]! Come on!"

Piers called out when he noticed you weren't right behind him anymore. His head whipped from his Captain to you a few steps back. His hands shifted on the rifle before his lips bared his teeth in an indecisive snarl.

"Piers!"

Chris bellowed with clear urgency while he checked the next room, waiting impatiently for his Lieutenant's appearance.

But you? Your gaze travelled from the broken window to the man still waiting for you.

You still remember the day he didn't. When he kept running, as if he expected you to catch up or die trying.

Seems like he's come a long way in caring for you.

"What are you waiting for?!"

He sounded mad. Irritated at your sudden lack of reaction.

You were just staring at him, as if you were contemplating things.

Piers shot one more look at Chris, who was waiting in the other room before he suddenly moved.

He crossed the distance between you two in fairly few steps before his hand reached for your shoulder.

"Hey, [Your Name]! Don't zone out, we're still in a hot zone!"

"I know."

So you did find the ability to talk after such agonisingly short moments.

Although his hazel eyes burning through your own only squeezed your heart into absolute pain.

You wanted to kiss him.

Oh, how you yearned for his lips to brush against your own.

To feel the weight of them against you. Kissing you. Tasting you.

You wondered how they felt.

If they were as soft as they looked.

How they'd burn a warmer shade from a bruising kiss. How shiny they'd look covered in your shared saliva.

And he saw every second of it.

The air stuttered in his chest on the next intake. He tried to cover it, as if anybody from his team could've seen it. He knew that look.

Piers knew how you yearned for him.

And he wasn't even talking about your obvious comments or the compliments.

The muscles in his jaw jumped as the two of you continued to stare at the other.

The world practically fell away the longer the moment held up.

Your lips pressed into a thin line when you blinked out of your trance, focusing back on the present and the situation you were all in.

It felt like the tension was suffocating him. His hand on your shoulder adjusted itself before he reassessed his grip. His adams apple bobbed when he swallowed a load of spit.

And you couldn't have been more transfixed on a simple bodily action.

"Piers, [Your Name]! What are we waiting for?! Keep moving!"

The footsteps stomping their way back into the room were unmistakable.

The voice booming through the space neither.

Chris stormed back to join you two but he paused short of the doorway at the sight he was greeted with.

You and Piers. Standing mere inches from each other. The sniper's hand falling from your shoulder to wrap back around his rifle. The way Piers shifted.

Like Redfield had interrupted something.

Your gaze found his only briefly before you focused back on the man infront of you.

Even Chris saw the love you held for his lieutenant. It wasn't hard to miss the glimmer in your eyes whenever you looked at him.

"You go ahead. I got something else to take care of."

A sentence you forced out with false bravado. The smile on your lips was shaky. A front you pushed up.

Neither of you would've ever guessed that you, the great mercenary extraordinaire (according to literally just you), would ever be this emotional while parting ways.

You weren't crying. Your eyes weren't even welling up. But you carried this heavy weight of knowing you'd have to leave them behind for your job. Leaving him behind like he was a temporary amusement.

"Don't be stupid. Both of you."

You directed at both soldiers. The smile on your lips growing despite never quite reaching your eyes.

Your hands briefly reached for Piers' arms, holding onto him almost awkwardly while you gaze fluttered around him. Like you couldn't find it in yourself to look at anymore.

And then, you disappeared.

Pulled back and already ran towards that very same window.

Piers and Chris just watched as you jumped through the broken frame, dragging shards after your descent.

But the sniper dashed towards the window like it was a reflex.

A reflex to look after you.

A subconscious action to check on you.

Your name had left his lips the very second you bolted away but nothing stopped you.

He watched as your silhoutte sprinted over the rooftops to god knows where.

The ever growing ache in his heart turning unbearable.

"Piers."

He barely registered the voice of his Captain. Barely noticed the gibberish screams of the J'avo starting to close in.

It took a solid moment before he snapped out of it. His hands shifted on the firearm, tightening in their resolve until he suddenly moved.

"I know. Let's go."

He couldn't let something as simple as your departure distract him from the mission.

Not even when his head screamed at him to follow you. To drag you back and make sure you were right behind him.

God, what did you do to him? When did this connection started to weave itself into a bond? When did he start to care for you like this?