#mw3

It was a stupid joke really. Saying they'd always stick together. That they need each other. He bought it from a kid making jewelry on his street.

It's a four piece one. Each corner is a necklace charm. This way, as the kid explained it to him, "no one gets left out and they need all four pieces to complete the heart."

Johnny gave it to them one random Thursday, like the silly joke it was supposed to be

Now, Simon wears his under his mask when he's home. Likes when the cool metal rubs his neck. He doesn't like to wear it on missions for fear he'll lose it.

Kyle wears his everyday and adamantly refuses to take it off. Even in the showers.

Price wears his on rougher days. Lets his fingers wear it smooth when he's nervous before a call with brass.

Simon and Johnny had made an arrangement for one civilian to be in the lease they originally shared. It started when John left something to rot and mold in the sink when they left for a mission, ever since they had someone who'd always be there to take care of the flat.

It helped that you were the best looking out of most applicants, some starry-eyed darling who'd come from some small town into the city. They'd, of course, wanted to make sure you were okay, so a constant stream of stream of saving tips, self defense etc etc. Well, when they'd leave, you were indulgent.

So when you booked this sudden trip, you didn't keep in mind how healing would be.

Your collarbone sore to move as you pulled off your shirt to shower the night after, the cool water soothing the irritated skin. The soft sound of music from your phone easing you to relax.

The hell was that?

You heard rustling from the other side of your locked door. Heart racing as you cut the water and grab something to cover yourself with. Praying that it was just some trick of the mind.

Silence greeted you as your ear touched the door, soon followed by its loathsome creek as you opened it.

There lied, your Mohawked roommate, crashed on the couch looking like hell. Eyes closed, you try to creep past not to disturb his much needed rest, yet you walk face first into the chest of Simon's hulking form.

His eyes look so tired as he meets your gaze. Face hot as you try to muster an apology for bumping into him. His hand raises, grazing the delicate skin that you had adorned.

"Lovely work," His voice is deep, shaking you to your core. You hadn't heard it in weeks, maybe months as you try to retain some sort of decency. Nodding as you try to scoot by.

"Johnny, c'mere look what the bird did," Simon beckoned as his companions shot up from his slumber.

John's eyes shot to your chest. Seeing the flowery details and smiling at the thought.

"Ah, such a pretty thing," His voice cooed as he soon made his way to you.