Hey readers. Back with another story, and since Hamilton lyrics have taken over my life, this calls for an angsty-love story/one-shot XD So enjoy.

By the way, this was based off of "Burn" lol


I can still remember those moments. From he he told me he was crazy for me, kissed my lips with his, and then brought me into a much more brighter world. A world where I could forget the hell that has been happening since the Russians brought us into war. I knew he was mine, and I also belonged to him. It was strange for a while, since I grew up thinking I wasn't someone to be loved. It was obvious that I was wrong when John Mactavish laid eyes on me and made me feel alive.

But the life in my eyes soon faded to black from the moment that I soon realized that my heart was left to rot. Instead, it was replaced with the fucking lieutenant's, and when I saw them kiss, even I thought that they were better off together. Though the image couldn't be erased, and now I lay here in an empty bed with an empty chest. I couldn't feel a pulse. I couldn't feel the tears burning in my eyes. I was just numb and defenseless as John's words flooded my head. He said he loved me. He said he'd be there for me. John...

I thought you were mine.

But why did he decide that Ghost was a better partner for him to fuck? But was it because he kept up with his game? Was he not a dumbass in distress like I am? Was he just... Good enough?

I sat up from the bed, not being able to rest despite being weary from wasting my emotions. The sheets still had John's scent in it, and it was then I could finally feel my blood boil. But I wasn't mad at him. I was mad at myself.

How could I have been better for him to keep?

Maybe I should've loved him more?

Maybe not act like a goddamned whore when we were alone together?

Fuck, they're so many things I could've done to just feel him next to me!

I loved him, and yet somehow I can't hate him even for what he's done. I can't let go. But now it seems I have to. He seems a lot more satisfied with Ghost.

From there, I rose from the bed. Shrugging on a jacket and leaving the room only to head outside into the cool, nightly air. As I pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from my breast pocket, I also felt a small slip of paper folded inside. I pulled that out as well, unfolding it only to reveal that it was John's handwriting. I wanted to cry at the words being written in this letter. The first time I read this, the feeling I felt was almost as if I was about to melt away from the fire burning inside.

Even now as I read this for the last time, a spark is flying somewhere within. But the flame dies out, and my blood runs cold. The words I now read were nothing but a bunch of lies. The tears that wanted to come out sunk back into my sockets. I set the pack of cigarettes back in my pocket, flicking the lighter a few times until the small spark turned into a flame. I let the letter light up, and slowly I watched as the words turn into ashes. I dropped the sheet of paper onto the ground, and within seconds it burned into dust.

"I was wondering where you were," I froze at the sound of John's damned voice. But I didn't turn to face him. Instead, I once again pulled out a cigarette, lighting it without saying anything.

"Mate, I know..." John began, "I know what you saw."

I glared at him. Yeah, I knew I was showing a lot of disrespect towards someone who happened to be my superior, but just looking at his face made the numb feeling burn away. He didn't deserve my respect anymore. I took the cigarette out of my mouth, blowing out the smoke before responding, "And what do you have to say about it? Are you sorry?"

"Do you want me to be?"

"Not if you don't mean it."

John took a step towards me, but I snapped at him before he could even say anything, a feeling of anger finally starting to boil in my chest, "No. I don't want you anywhere fucking near me. Why the hell should I let you touch me when you've already had your hands all over Ghost?"

"It wasn't like that-"

"Of course it wasn't," I faked a laugh, "Yeah, because it's not like you weren't trying to sneak your hands down his pants or some shit!"

"Roach-"

"I don't want to hear it, captain. I'm just fucking done with you-"

As I tried to walk past him, his hand wrapped around my wrist, and damn it was a tight grip. "What-?! John let go now!" I tried to break away, and when I used my other hand to pry his fingers off of me, his other hand had flung forward, pinning me against the wall.

"John, God dammit!" I cursed, "If shagging me is some attempt for me to forgive you, I'll kill you, I swear to god!"

John stayed silent, but his eyes said it all. He was looking for forgiveness, and then he said quietly, "I'm sorry, Roach. God, I really fucking am." The tone of his voice struck me. It was soft. It was almost like he was begging for my forgiveness. Tears flooded my eyes once more, but it wasn't because I was going to return his apology with a hug or a kiss. But I cried because those were the words he wanted me to hear. He didn't fucking mean it. Sharply, I pushed him off of me, hissing, "No."

His eyes were full of surprise, an expression of his I've never seen. But my heart didn't soften for that. "I hope you're happy with the lieutenant," I said, a little calmer this time, "Goodnight, sir."