Nick had thought that he and Rochelle had something. After an undeniable amount of sexual tension, both caved resulting in a quick session in a safe thought that he and Rochelle could make a go of things. But apparently not.
He knew now what kind of girl Rochelle was. After the showdown between Zoey and Francis, which nobody knew anything of, except for the sharp slap, and Francis returning, rubbing his jaw, Nick did feel slightly better. Karma, as he liked to think of it. From the glares, he could tell that Zoey had acquired an enemy in Rochelle, and to him, it looked like Zoey didn't care. When it came to fighting it looked like Zoey was a bare knuckle brawler, whilst Rochelle would descend into a fit of bitch fighting. Zoey would win that one. Nick smirked at the thought.
Gliding over to Coach and Louis, he tried to tear his mind away from the subject.
"So" he started, directing his question at the pair "How long are we staying?"
"Well, it looks pretty secure, at the moment, so as long as we want" Louis said. He liked having company; company that wasn't Francis, anyway, Coach nodded.
"It's nice to rest here, son, a bit of a change from trying to sleep in gutters"
"I want to move on" Nick growled.
"A couple of days, that's all" Coach said. Louis agreed. "Plus, Zoey and Ellis are getting on well, so are Ro and Francis"
"That's exactly what I'm worried about, Coach"
"I'm sorry; what?"
"Ugh, nothing" Nick turned away, and started to prowl.
"Ellis and Coach have just gone out to scrounge up some food, Ro, so we've got the place to ourselves" he said, gesturing at the grubby safe room. They laughed, leaning against each other for support. Rochelle smelt good. She smelt like sunshine, trees and sugar. The natural scent of her skin was better than any perfume, and he leaned into her, just to get another mouthful of it. He could almost taste it. He wanted to taste her, to circle her face with his hands, to have her against him. He knew he shouldn't have; but he let her in, and now he was paying for it. She was torturous, stalking his every thought and decision.
Sighing, she rested her head against his shoulder.
"Are they going to be long?" She asked, her eyes large, and framed by a generous amount of lashes.
"No..." he said, his voice softened beyond recognition. She nipped her lip.
Soon, her mouth was on his, and she sunk into him. Her mouth was the perfect moisture, soft and welcoming on his. She gave herself to him, and he happily took her.
"Fuck, tits, I shouldn't have grown attached to a broad, shit, fuck" Nick cursed himself as he paced.
"Will you sit down, son; you're making the place look untidy!" Coach called, laughing.
Nick forced a laugh in response, hoping to get Coach off of his case. It worked, as Coach and Louis continued their conversation about ammunition. He didn't know what to do with himself. Ellis and Zoey were busy, not to be disturbed, same as Rochelle and Francis.
Nick decided to inspect the contents of the haul Zoey and Ellis had obtained. He tipped out the bag and surveyed the contents, stirring them around with his fingers. Exploding rounds, laser sights, clip on flashlights, flares, tins of food, the toiletries bag, medkits, ammunition, and pills. Pipe bombs, boomer bile, adrenaline, and a defibulator were found in another bigger back.
Nick tried to distract himself with the bag but he couldn't. What did Francis mean when he said "If he knew Zoey"? What had he said to her behind the aisle which made her so angry that it pushed her to violence? Nick pondered, with his eyes glazed over, deep in thought.
"Nick?" Louis called, causing him to snap to attention.
"What is it?" he asked, rubbing his back.
"There's a hunter caught up outside and it's making one hell of a noise" It was, now Nick thought about it. The noise it was making was blood chilling. It was a urethral scream, mixed between a screaming cry of pain, and a call for help. It was dying.
Looking outside, Nick saw it was wounded. Its side had been ripped open, the stench undeniable.
"It might be calling for help, we have to take it out" Coach nodded. Louis rested his sniper rifle on the window ledge, peering down the sights. He took it out with one shot to the head. Nick sat down, and heard Rochelle.
"Stop it Francis!" she mock-scolded, dissolving into giggles. Nick resisted a growing urge to hit Francis.
Nick! I like Nick, and thought we deserved a break from Zellis fluff. And okay, I'm also warming to Nochelle? Nick? WHAT DO I CALL IT? Nick and Rochelle. I read a ship fic of them, and they've grown on me.
Also, it wasn't a Walking Dead reference; it was from Resident Evil Extinction, The Arcadia ship owned by The Umbrella Corporation. Silly :3 maybe next time.