17. Tide
Date: 5-14-2024
Time: 1520
“Are you stalking me?” I mutter through a cocky grin just loud enough for my little siren to hear me, but instead of recanting like usual, she just stares at me. The fuck did I do? I mean, I know what I was planning, but it was just that… a plan.
You’d think if she eavesdropped, she would’ve heard how it wasn’t my fault on either ship, her parents or hers. You’d think she might soften towards me. I mean bloody hell; I’ve spent all day trying to find a way to get her to trust me a little. The fact she showed up now was a lucky coincidence. Even with the information I've spent hours searching for she looks at me like she’s going to throw a punch. Honestly, when it’s all said and done she might have a reason to but right now that doesn’t matter. Her gaze subtly darts to Jasmine who's digging the tip of her boot into the floor, then back at me. I can’t fight back the way my lips turn up at the sight.
So, my little siren is jealous?
I bend at the waist, so I’m face to face with her, not letting my focus budge from her face. I’m a little disappointed that her scent isn’t tainted by me but by her new clothes. She glares back, squaring her shoulders and placing her hands behind her back.
“Just passing by.” She chirps, keeping her tone calm and collected. There’s a quiet growl that forces my head back to my colleagues, but Sam looks just as confused and Jasmine is busy looking anywhere but at Cordelia. It finally registers that the mess hall is on the way to the meeting room, but why would she go to the mess hall? My room is filled with everything she should need. I turn my head, but her back is already to me as she waltzes down the hall.
“Since we know who and what caused the explosions, look for why they’re planted. I’ll handle the rest.” I already have a good feeling why, but I won’t say anything until I have the hard facts in front of me. They don’t even have a chance to reply before I rush down the hall, trailing hard on Sharkie’s heels.
“I have food in the room, you know?”
“I want a snack, not food.”
I scoff at the statement. I knew it’d throw her through a loop having her stay with me now but I’m selfish and I want her nearby.
“You’re not going to find snacks in the mess hall.”
“Your room is boring.”
Now I know she’s just saying anything to try to get me to back off, but that’s not going to work. My room isn’t boring, well at least it wouldn’t be if I was in there with her.
If she’s even the slightest bit relieved or perturbed by the new information, she doesn’t show it. She’s back to being the same void of emotion I usually see. I want her to loosen up. If she needs fucking ‘snacks’ to do that then so be it.
“Come on.” I say as I take her hand. She tries to jerk away but I intertwine my fingers with hers, squeezing into her knuckles. I promised more freedom, and I meant it but I'm still going to monitor her.
Date: 5-14-2024
Time: 1545
If I knew a corner shop could make her so happy, I would’ve brought her here sooner. My little siren is busy bouncing down each aisle, filling her basket with the most disgusting things, but I refuse to stop her. There's an odd feeling filling my chest, reminding me of how the sun feels against bare skin when you lay out on the sand during a warm summer day. I half expected her to bolt out of the car while it was moving or rush through the streets as soon as she stepped into the parking lot when we arrived, but she's always one for surprises.
“You have a minute left.” I call out beside the register and the sound of her feet patter turns fast against the sticky linoleum floor, sprinting for each thing she’s searching for despite the way her shoes struggle to pull from whatever liquid hasn't been mopped up.
I decided to make it a game in hopes she’d loosen up a bit when she got here; she had five minutes to fill her basket with any and everything she wanted. She even adjusted how I’d have to ‘stuff my face’ with her and she didn’t quite acknowledge the fact I retorted ‘I’d rather stuff my face in her’. Still, a win in my eyes, even when she picked up a particularly sharp pocketknife and tried to convince me to buy it. I’m not an idiot. I know she’s still harboring ill feelings, but I’ll change that.
“What store doesn’t have Cosmic Brownies?” She yells. I finally let my laugh break out when she comes sauntering up with both hands on her basket holding the junkiest food I’ve ever seen. And is that gin? Where the hell did she find that? It doesn’t matter, what does is that she’s smiling. It sort of mirrors Moes where it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but perfectly white straight teeth show. She catches me looking and instantly ducks her head down as if I wasn’t supposed to see it. I’ll have to pull it out of her more. It’s too gorgeous of a sight to keep hidden.
“Not store , shop.” I tut. “Is that all you want?” I question while pulling out my wallet, paying more attention to her squatting down to look at the lining of sweets while the cashier scans each item with a small grimace.
“Considering there are no cosmic brownies in this place, then yes, it’s all I want.” She bites out as if it’s supposed to insult me. I’m too busy unrolling my money clip, laughing to focus on her silence that follows. She clears her throat, but I don’t glance in her direction as I focus on the way this poor cashier looks like he might have a heart attack and he’s not even the one who has to eat the junk.
“Besides. I got pickles!” she screeches, making me finally glance at her as she does a little twirl on her tippy toes with her hands clenched so tight I know she has to be holding back whatever excitement is left. How is this woman so destructive? She reminds me a lot of my mother outside of all the military equipment and chaos. She carries this radiance that makes anything gravitate in her direction and want to shine as brightly as she does. Even without a smile she just feels… warm.
It’s comical how she tries to load all the brown bags in her arms. Being the gentleman I am, I take them from her. I expected a thank you or some type of acknowledgment, but she just holds a cocky smirk, refusing to look at me. I don't have time to get fully adjusted in the driver's seat before she leans over the center console, trying to dig through bags.
“Sit back and put your seatbelt on.” I grind out with a firm smack to her arse, causing her to yelp as she flops back in the seat with a bag of crisps. There’s a soft flush in her cheeks and her eyes are shining. Even though I try to ignore it, I can’t help but grin back.
“Do snacks make you this happy?” I ask as I pull out of the parking space and take off back towards base. The streetlights are dim compared to the stars and moon, almost lacking in comparison. The crinkling of the bag makes me grip into the wheel from the sound, pulling me from what could’ve been a beautiful moment.
“You are a stalker.”
My head snaps towards her, catching full sight of a crisp plopping into her mouth. My attention is pulled to the picture she has pinched between her pointer and middle finger raised in the air. My face feels hot even though it shouldn’t. She knew I was a little messed up, so I shouldn’t be embarrassed. I suppose it’s due to all the time I spent trying to hide it.
It must’ve fallen out when I paid for the food and I didn’t notice, but that doesn’t deter me from the fact she is as insane as I am considering she’s grinning through each chew she takes. Ignoring her, I look back towards the road, unsure how to even come back from that. Just as I do, she plops the photo into my lap, and I hastily shove it in my pocket.
“Why do you keep it?” She feigns contemplating, then sucks in a dramatic gasp as if she just realized something. “Is it to remind you of me? How romantic!” Her hands fly to her chest with the crisp bag in sync, as if she’s clutching her heart. I roll my eyes. Since when has she been like this? It’s a complete one-eighty from what I’m used to. I’m not complaining, I’m just shocked.
“I don’t need a picture to remind me of you.” I mutter under my breath while I take a purposely sharp turn, causing her body to jolt. She doesn’t acknowledge the fact I’m hoping to get her to be quiet by getting her head to hit the window. Dick move, I know, but I have always said if she was going to get hurt it’d be by me.
“Why not?”
“Because every breath I take reminds me of you.”
It’s quiet for a long moment besides the sound of her shifting in her seat. I rarely get to see her uncertainty. Most of the time she seems so confident, but right now it’s like we’re in our own little space with no shady past, no complicated present, just us and her stupid snacks.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
I contemplate for a long moment as the turn pulls us into the bright parking lot. I used to be excited about getting back to base, seeing every military-grade truck and tank come into view was always the highlight of any outing. I’d sprint out of the car just to get inside the place I call home, but right now I can’t move.
“Take it how you want, little siren. I just know it’s easier to die for someone than to live for them.”
Her jaw stops working to chew the food, making me groan from the fact if she swallows now, she might choke. I wish I could tell you where the words came from or why they were so easy to come off my tongue, but I can’t. I just know that the meaning behind them was honest, and that scares the absolute shit out of me. She’s too quiet and I don’t like it. For once, I don’t want the last damn word. As if sensing my inner turmoil she unbuckles her belt, flinging the passenger door open. I wish she’d just wait; I may be an arse but I'd gladly open the door for her. My father always made sure that Moe and I were taught how to properly treat a woman.
“I wish I could say the same, but it’s not true if each breath you take feels like your lungs are filling with water.” She mumbles before shutting the door, walking towards the base like she owns the place. Leaving me to bring her stupid bags inside but I don’t mind because I need time to think about what the hell that even means.
The world seriously is a fucked-up place, isn’t it? I’m so drawn to her, but I know I never was supposed to be–that I shouldn’t be. Too fucking late. I have been since the moment she left her mark and nothing in this world can stop it. I won’t let it. With the same recognition I constantly fight myself on, I lunge out of the car and grab all her shit.
It’s late, so it’s no surprise the base is quiet. It’s always been comfortable as long as you’re comfortable. Sometimes it feels like it can adjust to your emotions. Before I can think too far into it, I open my private quarters’ door. It’s odd sharing a room with another and we haven’t even ‘shared’ it yet. I won’t lie when I say I love the way her scent is already clinging to the air and just seeing her tanned skin in comparison to the perfectly balanced surrounding is fucking mesmerizing.
She’s sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen area in nothing but a tee shirt making my cock stir at the sight, especially since there’s a small scowl on her lips.
“What took you so long? I told you your room was boring.”
“So, you think you’ll be entertained with me here? Look who’s romantic now.”
I grin ear to ear at her false shock and set her bags on either side of her while using my arms to cage her in. I love how her body is already in sync with mine, spreading her legs so I can fit between them. My shoulders are still tense from the conversation we had but if she’s going to be playful and what I can assume is herself, I’m going to try to forget it. Whatever it takes to keep this version of her. The one where she isn't looking at me like a stranger and she doesn't hide behind some brave bravado. I thrive off the fire she holds but the person she's been showing does one thing I never wanted. It shows me she's human and I don't want it any other way.
She pushes at my chest, making me laugh as I turn towards the wall of the living area in front of the bed. To most, it probably looks like cabinets or a closet, but as I slide them open, she gasps. I turn to see her shadow sprint across the room with God knows what in her arms and gin in her hand, barely giving me the chance to register her jumping on top of the bed.
“Where’s the remote?” She exclaims while laying out numerous bags in front of her, clinging to a jar of pickles like it’ll disappear if she puts it down.
“Oh no, you’re not picking what we watch.” I mumble as I sit on the other edge of the bed and untie my boots. She’s so still beside me that if she didn’t keep up so much space in my head, I’d forget she was even there. I peer over my shoulder to look at her. She’s staring at me, brows pinched and lips in a tight line. Just as quickly as her scowl comes it fades, replaced with that cocky smirk I’m sure I’ve memorized by now.
“Don’t you have any manners? I’m a guest, I get to choose—unless I’m still a prisoner.”
Just as she finishes the sentence, the popping of the jar’s lid fills the space with an ungodly smell. She’s trying to twist my arm and she’s doing a damn good job, because one thing is for sure, manners are paramount. I reach into my nightstand drawer and throw the remote behind me, earning a very excited squeal. I guess it didn’t hit her in the head like I intended.
“So, you were jealous earlier?” I question while unbuttoning my shirt. Even if she’s here, I’m not going to start living any differently. That means I will be sleeping in my boxers. If she wants to fight me on it, then she can sleep on the floor. Who am I kidding? I’ll tie her to the bedpost before I do that, mainly because I don’t want to prove my insanity by beating the shit out of a floor for making her back hurt. What the fuck has happened to me?
A candy bar hits the back of my head, making me laugh. I’m sure she was expecting me to wince or scowl, but I can’t help it.
“I wasn’t jealous.”
"Whatever you say, little siren.”