Hey guys, and gals. I cannot express how sorry I am for leaving this story un-updated for over a year. But, my life did a complete 180 turn on me in May last year. I am mentally exhausted, tired, destroyed really, that I cannot explain what I've been through this past year. Too much has happened. I am, as they even say in Halo, at my core broken. I'm a different person compared to when I last posted a chapter, and not entirely in a good way.
I went through a life-destroying tragedy, that's the gist of it. I can't really feel happiness anymore at the moment, everything feels dull and meaningless. No, it's not deep depression or anxiety, I already have that since years back, this is another level of meaningless.
Before I could feel moments of happiness but they're all gone now. I just try to survive day by day at the moment. It is only just now that I've started to pick up my writing again, having had no energy at all to do anything for a looong time. I'm still really broken, and I cannot promise how regularly this story will update. I am however, already typing up chapter 27 as we speak, but I felt I needed to write something else besides the plot of the main story.
So here you get a side chapter filler, hopefully it is enough until chapter 27 comes out, which should be soon. I just finally managed to finalize all the details of the plot too, mainly covering up plot holes and such. So it's going to get even more interesting soon, spoilers alert.
I just really want to thank all of you who have been with me, and who have recently joined this story's follow. I can only hope that you all are still with me.
If you want to talk to me, just send a PM and I will reply to you guys there. If you want to ask about what happened that is alright too, but I just cannot type it out here. I hope you can understand.
I also hope that all of you are okay out there in this pandemic. Please be safe and take care of yourselves, and your family. My wishes all go to you guys, and gals.
Now, please enjoy this chapter while isolation has us enclosed in our houses.
I hope you like it.
Chapter 26 - Happy Accidents
A score of four aces hauled Jeff the win of the game this round from the group of marines that were currently playing with him, which was just what he'd needed, actually – if he wanted to continue playing, that is. He had nothing left to bet with, as he would've been left empty-handed.
Some say that Jeff's borderline genius, or borderline stupid – no one really knew which side he qualified the most for.
On most occasions though, the majority would deem him outright stupid. To him however, he'd of course dub himself the genius.
"Seriously, this always happens! Why do we play cards against him, letting him drain us of all of our wages before he just… hauls it in himself." Casey grumbled beside Jeff, her hands slamming the cards down onto the surface of the table, while her foot irritatingly tapped against the floor. She was agitated, rightfully so.
"Hey, it's not my fault that you're so easily fooled." Jeff shrugged and leaned back into his chair, arms stretching above before he placed them behind his head, clasping them together. He looked quite relaxed in such a position.
Who wouldn't after just having won the biggest pot of their session of card-playing.
Engineer Addams of fourth Engineering Squadron of the Infinity only sighed deeply in reply, he too feeling pretty much ripped off. The two marines next to the engineer, groaned out loud of having lost part of their monthly wage.
"I'm just that good, get over it, you all." Jeff shone them a bright shit-eating grin, which only earnt him a kick to his shin from Casey.
"That wasn't necessary…" The soldier winced from the force of the kick - she'd landed on a bruised spot from one of his sparring matches yesterday.
"Yes it was, you were flat out asking for it." Casey said, eyebrow rising against him in a silent challenge.
"And Engineer Addams here, agrees with me." She swept her hand towards said engineer, who at first looked like a deer caught in headlights before pulling himself together, and he nodded in agreement. It seemed to be the safest course of action.
Jeff, deciding he wanted to keep breathing for another day, made the smart move of not retaliating.
"Whatever…"
The group then started to pack up and discard, going back to their stations. The only ones left were Jeff and Casey.
"So, got any plans for this weekend?" Jeff turned to face Casey after having moved the other chairs back to where they belonged.
"The boys and I are planning on going to the pub during our short shore-leave for so much needed beer-drinking, how 'bout you?"
Casey contemplated for a moment before replying.
"Well, I guess I can join, it's not like I have much else to do. Although, I have a side-project of mine-"
"Awesome, you're coming with me, then!" Jeff cut her off before she could indulge him in whatever boring project she had going on. There were more entertaining things she could do on her free time than… project-making.
"I didn't-"
"Ah ah!" Jeff interrupted once again, waggling his finger in front of the woman.
"You've agreed now, there's no backing out. It's gonna be fun though, I swear!" The female soldier stared dubiously at her friend, before her shoulders sagged. She pulled a breath, and slowly exhaled it in defeat.
"Alright, fine… But if one jackass hits on me from your group, they're going end up eunuchs."
Jeff sent Casey a weary glance.
"You've been hanging out with Tutes for too long, she's starting to rub off on you."
Then,
"Speaking of our firecracker-friend, where is she anyway? I haven't seen her all day, or yesterday when I think of it… She never came to the mess hall. Have you seen her?" Jeff looked worried, his best friend seemingly having gone missing for more hours than usual.
"No, I haven't, actually." Casey frowned, her brow tilting downwards as she set about analysing the situation at hand.
"Sometimes she skips breakfast, but being gone for this long without at least a chance encounter? It worries me. Is it just me, or has she been off her marbles for a bit lately?" Casey threw Jeff a questioning stare. None of them knew what was off about their closest friend, as last time they'd seen her, she didn't want to divulge them in what was bothering her. It was clear as day though, that something was on her mind. Something that didn't bring about positive vibes, to say the least. She'd dialled down on her usual spunk, and the dark circles under her eyes told them her insomnia had returned.
"We should look for her, I wanna know what's up." Jeff rose then, Casey following shortly after. They left the engineering room where Addams was stationed, yelling out a simple bye! - to the guy.
Hangar Bay – the Infinity
As the duo went on their adventure on finding 013, the very woman herself had situated herself in the hangar bay, ducking behind a few crates. Ducking might not be the entirely correct term however, seeing as she was more hiding behind said crates.
"Is there a reason you're behind these crates?" Came a sudden voice behind her, and 013 let out a squeal - much to her dismay.
"How'd you know I was here!?" Said marine whispered indignantly to the person behind her, her body slightly turning to meet the gaze of her intruder.
"I heard you muttering something mean to one of the crates, for giving you a splinter, I believe."
013' shoulders sank then, and she manoeuvred around to fully face Frederic, him breathing down her neck as she hid a less wanted situation.
"Well since you asked so nicely,I'm hiding because I sort of-kinda broke the Chief's visor."
Upon hearing this, Frederic's eyebrows slowly rose, before he then smiled, and chuckled.
"Now that's a story I want to hear."
"Sure sure," 013 waved her hand at Frederic,
"-if you'll just get out of sight so he doesn't find you!" she whisper-yelled, and frankly just pulled the Spartan down to her level by grabbing hold of his shirt, he was being too slow for her liking.
"Alright alright, but I have to warn you that he-"
"Sssch, I'm supposed to tell you how I broke his visor, right? Which means I'm the one talking, not you. So just, sssch!' 013 repeated, and poked Frederic meaningfully on his chest. The Spartan however, could barely hold back his laughter. He felt obliged to at least try warn her one more time, however;
"Babycakes, you know we're Spartans, right?" 013 sent him a deadpan look that told him what she didn't bother voice out loud – 'Yeah, and?'
Frederic then decided that he would rather see how this panned out, and so hummed and nodded;
"Good, good."
The female opposite him then breathed out a deep sigh, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts a minute. Her knees were starting to feel rather uncomfortable too, from having been stuck here for over two hours, whereas she during those two hours have tried to figure out different to approach the Chief, to tell him that "hey, uh, I broke your visor... I'm sorry?"
She palmed her face in exasperation, fixed her position a bit to alleviate her complaining knees, and settled back in a somewhat more comfortable way of sitting. She wasn't really that old, to have knee issues to begin with, but she's sometimes felt she should ask Doc if she'd somehow triggered her aging process. Why else did she seem to have the issues of a 80-year old at 30+?
013 heaved another tiresome sigh, before reaching into the flipped over crate behind her, procuring the item of her current misery. Shel held it up in front of her to show Frederic. She got a reaction, alright.
"You weren't kidding - You've done a hell of a job of decorating that visor, babycakes."
"No shit, Sherlock? It's beyond saving at this point, and I don't know what to do. Internally, I'm kind of panicking at the moment." 013 turned the helmet so that the visor faced her – she stared silently at it.
"I was thinking of just writing 'I'm sorry!' with a big black pen and leave it there to be honest."
"Buuut, I know I have to apologize to him in person. Just, how do I even start? How is he going to get it fixed? And to ask him what the cost is going to be? That's just straight up too awkward of a thing to do."
013 dropped the helmet into her lap.
"What am I supposed to do, Fred?!" 013 felt like she wanted to cry, but knew better than that. She was a strong woman, and no visor, no matter whose visor it was, would reduce her to a crying heap of woman that reeked of desperate.
"You really should just apologize to him. He's not going to do anything terrible, if that's what you're worried about. You should know that, you've known us, and him, for a couple months now, does the Chief strike you as such a person who would look down on you? Even if you cracked his visor?" Frederic asked, his hand coming up to clasp her shoulder in a comforting manner.
"Perhaps you should start the conversation by giving him his helmet back, and then admit your sincere apologies?"
013 glanced from the helmet to Frederic, before returning her gaze to the sad, green helmet in her lap.
"Now, how did it break? To crack a MJOLNIR visor is nothing short of impressive. You should really count it as some sort of merit, actually, even if it's an embarrassing one." The teal Spartan smiled cheekily, and 013 laughed lightly at his comment.
"I broke it by ledge-accident…" 013 mumbled under her breath. Frederic tilted his head, motioning for her to continue.
"He'd placed his helmet on the top locker at the gym, where you can store your duffelbag instead of the separated locker-rooms, right? Which is weird, who would leave their helmet in the open just like that!? 013 questioned the Chief's decision-making skills, even if for a moment or two.
"So I kinda slammed the locker door a bit too hard because I was angry, it moved the locker further into the wall, and it snapped one of the ledges running along the wall behind it apparently. I want to blame that that ledge was faulty to begin with, there would be no way for me to be stronger than a ledge built onto this ship, unless I was taking steroids for over a period of time. I am strong, but not that strong. Even if I wish I was."
013 breathed in, sucking in the air as if she were drowning, the shortage of breath stemming from nothing but her spontaneous bout of ranting. She picked up the story soon after, however.
"So the ledge snapped, and by unfortunate placing, it swooshed into the visor of his helmet, thus, cracking it." 013 demonstrated vividly with her hands how the ledge catapulted itself off the wall and went flying horizontally forward, like 'bam!', slamming into the gold visor of the Chief's helmet.
"… Swooshed?" Frederic questioned, dark eyebrow quirking upward at her specific word of choosing.
"… What? It's a legit word! It swooshed into his visor! Catapulted, flew, zoomed, banged – what do you prefer, Mr. stick-up-my-ass-grammar-nazi-freak?" 013 pointedly stared at him, her arms crossing over her chest in a defensive manner. The Spartan opposite her held his hands up in the air, signaling that he would give.
"Alright, alright, swoosh it is." Frederic then gestured towards the helmet;
"Can I see it?" With delayed reaction, 013 placed her hands around the MJOLNIR-helmet, giving it one long last stare, before sighing once again, and then tossed it to Frederic.
"Here you go, enjoy my artwork in detail, yeah?"
Frederic turned it in different directions, seemingly inspecting it…
Before he tossed it over his shoulder, the helmet flying over the crates behind him in an arc. Immediately, the soldier in front of him screeched (Remark there was no sound later – Fred)
"Hey! What did you do that for!?" 013's body shot forward, pretty much barreling into the form of Frederic in a desperate attempt at trying to reach the long-gone helmet. 013 stared after it for a moment, before she leaned back a bit, limbs pushing off of the Spartan who she'd catapulted herself into. Her eyes glared daggers at him.
"I'm going to mention you as a co-worker in destroying that helmet." 013 whispered into Frederic's ear, however the only reply she received was a chuckle. 013 frowned angrily, and punched him for good measure.
He deserved it.
Not that the Spartan sustained any reasonable damage from her punch, but to her, it felt good punching him. But she felt a mental stimulation in doing so.
"I did mention we're Spartans, right?" Frederic rhetorically asked 013, and she, having now accepted that the helmet probably was even more broken now, and also very visibly out of her reach, sank down to the hangar-floor, her knees hitting it with a low hum. She'd climbed away from Frederic after accepting her defeat.
"Yeah, you did, you think I'm senile or something? Getting early dementia? I assure you that Doc thinks I'm completely healthy, if only a little accident-prone… And probably a bit insane but hey, that's my best quality." 013 replied, her brow crinkling in her rising confusion. Why was he asking her if she knew they were Spartans? It's a rather obvious fact, isn't it?
"So… What do you think I meant by saying that?" Frederic continued, looking at 013 with what seemed to be a glint of humour. It had 013 immediately feeling even more on edge now. What remained of her frustration washed away, completely replaced by her trying to figure out his cryptic message.
"I… don't know." Came her answer after mulling it over for a while – trying to find out the answer was like trying to solve the Rubic's cube on your first try. Impossible.
Fred's lips then turned into the same ominous grin from before, and now 013 was feeling worried, like, really worried.
'Wait… I didn't hear the helmet ever land… ' 013's eyes widened at her sudden realization.
"… Hey Chief? Whaddya think of 013's newly added decoration to your helmet? You like it?" Frederic called out then, and 013's face completely fell.
He'd insinuated that all this time, the Chief had been standing on the other side of those crates – ever since Frederic had joined her pity-party.
Which meant he'd pretty much heard the whole conversation.
Because he was a Spartan.
And Spartans had super-hearing.
'… Fudgesticks.'
013 didn't move even as Frederic started to stand up, his hand reaching down to her once he'd straightened out. She had to instead try keep her hyperventilation to a minimum.
"… How do I apologize now? There's no coming back from this, Fred. As soon as I leave my safety spot from behind these crates, I'm done for." 013 said, not even bothering with the fact that Chief would still hear all she said.
"Yes there is, now up you go." Frederic grabbed ahold of her elbow and hauled her up before clapping her on the back and pushing her forward so she was in front of him.
"Time to greet our friend, it's rude to keep him waiting."
013 had nothing to say, and even if she did, she wouldn't be able to voice it right now.
Instead, she slowly trudged forth from behind the crates, looking like a dog would felt ashamed for having destroyed their owner's favourite pair of shoes. It also ultimately led to the revealing of the one and only Master Chief. He wasn't wearing his armour, even though he'd had his helmet at the gym – did he go and take it off before coming here? 013 wondered idly, in an attempt of trying to evade the inevitable. Her gaze slowly dragged across his form, taking in how the Spartan before her was dressed.
He was wearing his under-armour.
Soon enough however, her eyes finally connected with his.
Their staring contest lasted only a few seconds as Frederic too came forth from behind the crates. Coming to a stop behind 013, his hand once again landed on 013's shoulder, in a comforting gesture. She felt him squeeze her shoulder reassuringly.
013's fiddled with her hands, eyes moving down to look at the helmet the Chief was holding onto. She was unsure on how to begin the process of explaining herself to him. Or well, apologize really, since he'd already heard the whole story, having been standing there, much to her misery, without her knowing about it.
"I'll leave you two to sort it out." Frederic said then, breaking the silence in the room. His hand slipped from 013's shoulder and he strode forth, passing by the Chief meanwhile. He seemed to whisper something into his ear, and 013 observed the whole interaction with a foreboding gaze.
If they were in a desert currently, there would be tumbleweeds bouncing over the ground with probably a western wind, or something. Or, the song of crickets would be playing the climax of their orchestra - whichever cinematic worked best to describe the current setting within the hangar bay.
013 swallowed, before finally pulling herself together – she couldn't just keep standing there, hoping that somehow magically, the issue would just go away. Vanish as if simply swept under a mat – out of sight, out of mind, right?
Straightening herself, 013 tore her gaze off from the helmet and looked at the Spartan opposite her again, and strode forward.
The Master Chief remained in what she could only describe a rather casual stance, his front fully facing her. There was no slouching, which she hadn't expected to see, either. The day the Chief slouched would be the day someone broke his back, and even then it would be an unlikely thing to see.
013 raised one of her hands then, having stopped a half a meter short of the Chief, it slowly coming up to rest on the top of the helmet held in the Chief's grasp. Her hand landed heavily on it, the newly added weight only being shown in the minuscule movement of the helmet dipping down just slightly. She pulled in another breath.
"I'm sorry for ruining your helmet, Chief… You probably, uh…, heard the whole story back there of how it happened…," 013 fumbled after words, her brow creasing in concentration – she really wanted to get this right, and hopefully, this would be the last apology she would ever have to make to the Master Chief.
Instead of receiving any sort of reprimand or tiresome sigh, the sound of a deep, reverberating chuckle reached her ears. Dumbstruck, 013's mouth flopped open, as she was not prepared for him… laughing at this whole ordeal.
A warm hand landed on hers that laid on top of the helmet, his fingers grasping and embracing her own, smaller ones. She could feel the callouses from years and years of usage, and 013 felt her heart flutter at his contact. She felt him squeeze her hand lightly, comfortably, and 013's worry, her uneasiness, just escaped her through one heavy exhale. Her tense shoulders slacked, and muscles she didn't even know she'd tensed, relaxed from his touch upon hers.
This was his way of telling her that it would be alright. There was no apology to be made, as it wasn't necessary.
He spoke then, his voice filling the space between them that previously was dominated by awkward mumbling of words, with a dash of silence.
"You are alright, 013." Came the oh-so-masculine voice of the Master Chief, Sierra 117… 'John.'
His hand left hers then, and immediately 013 felt a loss within her. However, it didn't leave her for long, as his touch returned – slowly travelling up her arm. The warmth he emitted felt like a fiery trace of lava from where-ever he touched, and 013 couldn't hold back the shiver that shot up through her spine, or the tingly feeling of her nerves at his firm touch. It felt so unreal, his willingness of seeking contact like this, with another human being – and with her, of all people. She's seen him interact with Blue Team plenty of times, but she could count on her fingers how many times she's seen him initiate contact with either of his members. At most there would be a shoulder touch, a hand grasping an arm, or a hand on a knee.
This however, was something she's never seen him do. Not on his own volition. Not this… calm, or relaxed sort of touch, not this… un-provoked action.
His hand reached her bicep then, and that's where he stopped. Fingers slowly circulated her upper bicep and before she knew it, she was pulled into his chest. He held the helmet off to the side in a conscious choice of making sure that her body didn't collide with it, instead, her face met the stern material of his undersuit, which too radiated immense heat.
'He's a literal walking, talking furnace.'
Her hands had by reflex come up to brace for impact, also meaning that they landed nowhere else but on his chest. Her hands having tensed, she let them relax, fingers slowly splaying out across the broadness of the Chief's chest.
In another context, she'd probably be blamed for molesting him, yet that wasn't such a case here, not at all. All touches made from both sides were full of intent, and a certain amount of awareness of what exactly they were doing.
Her hands slowly swept over the body underneath, and before long, she let the travel to his back. She could feel his muscles moving beneath, the tensing and relaxing motions almost feeling like soothing waves.
Her hands couldn't touch each other once she fully encircled her arms around him, which was visible, physical proof of the Chief's size. She was tiny in comparison to him.
Still, that didn't bother her at all.
She squeezed the Spartan softly, eyes closing as she just simply took in her embrace of him. The heat was enveloping her everywhere, and his steady rhythmic heartbeat almost lulled her to sleep. She could listen to his heart forever, if she was allowed to.
The Spartan himself stood still, the only movement he did was reacting to the unfamiliar touches of the female soldier so close to him. His hand still encircled her bicep, not having moved since he'd decided to pull her in, towards him.
He wanted to know what it felt like having her this close - would he be uncomfortable, just like every other time someone came too close to his personal space?
It turned out that no, he, in fact, didn't feel uncomfortable.
He felt at ease.
A certain calm overcame him that he hadn't felt since… He could not recall when the last time was that he felt this calmness, he could only remember that he has felt it once before, as the distinct familiarity flashed by in his mind.
As they stood there, still, unmoving, breaths almost synchronized, the Chief slowly tugged at her, pulling her away lightly. He did so slowly, as he was afraid of her interpreting it wrongly. He didn't want her to be afraid.
Afraid of her reading his tugging as rejection from his part.
A thought travelled by then.
What exactly, would he be rejecting?
Was he rejecting her, or this unfamiliar feeling of safety and warmth that she brought out within him? The unknown squeezing, tugging feeling at his chest?
013's drowsy expression had his lips tugging into a light smirk, one that was there, but barely noticeable if you didn't understand a Spartan's way of showing emotion. Then, if you did, it would be the same as broadcasting it to the whole universe.
Sort of.
013 blinked up at him, eyes curious, but at the same time he could read fear in them, probably from him pulling her away from him - Even though she was still very close to him. He could feel her pulse racing.
He did not mind her closeness, in fact, he missed the pressure of having her against him.
Instead, his hand let go of her, once again coming up to grasp his helmet with both hands as he'd held it before. He turned it so that the broken visor was directed at him, before lifting it up to his eye-level. He met his own gaze in the cracked surface of his visor, and he didn't recognize the serene facial expression that he seemed to have. It was rare for him to ever look at a mirror and see anything else besides wornness and exhaustion. He blinked, and then set about his plan of action.
The helmet slowly came down, encasing the head of 013, whose hands rose up to grasp onto the helmet, which ultimately led to her grasping ahold of his own hands.
Once the helmet was settled, the Chief pulled his hands away from under hers, crossing them across his chest as he observed the girl before him.
The woman, really.
Soldier, to be precise.
Spartan, to be exact.
His Spartan.
Her hands were still clasping onto the helmet, and he tilted his head.
He rather enjoyed the image of her in his helmet.
Despite it being cracked.
His eyes scanned her whole body then, steel blue eyes watching, analyzing, every nook and cranny of her form.
"You know better to not take care of yourself." He said with his baritone voice, upon seeing what shape exactly, that she was in. Her body bore telltale signs of exhaustion, of her pushing herself to her limit, and going over it.
013's cheeks immediately flamed up into a red hue, something which she would've felt even more embarrassed about, however, seeing as she was wearing the Chief's helmet, she didn't. Because he couldn't see her cheeks attempting to audition for a lighthouse position.
She stumbled over her words before settling on the old classic.
"I'm just following Spartan protocol, throwing myself into work and all that."
The Chief arched an eyebrow at her response.
"Spartans are drilled to take care of themselves as best as possible no matter the circumstance. You are doing a poor job at following those directives."
013 hmph:ed.
"It's not my fault that I forget to eat sometimes… and forget that I haven't eaten before throwing myself into an intense workout… And to sleep. Sleep and I aren't on the best of terms." 013 argued back. In a rather poor attempt, though.
"Yes, it is." Was the Chief's only reply. Her arguments would not move him at all.
"No."
"Yes."
"No, really, it's usually like this."
She was only met with a silent stare-down.
"Fine, it is." 013 exhaled a deep sigh.
"But I've always been bad at taking care of myself. I meant it when I said it's usually like this. Has been since forever. I haven't bothered to change routine, because it's worked so far. I'm not dead."
The Chief almost glared at her, however, since Spartans don't glare, the best she got was a stern stare.
"Today it ends. We will teach you how to be a proper Spartan." And with that being said, the Chief abruptly turned 013 around, backed, before briefly falling down, 013 in tow.
His body hit the cot which he'd led them to, accompanied by the squeak of said cot, and the surprised yelp of 013.
"Lesson number one; take every opportunity when possible - to rest." The Chief leaned against the wall behind him, one of his legs coming up in a relaxed bend, the other remaining outstretched. His arms encircled 013, pulling her up towards him, before he relaxed his arm against his bent knee, the other landing on the top of his helmet – which 013 was still wearing.
013, remaining stiff as she tried to take in what just happened, her gaze wide as saucers and her breaths short. However, not wanting to overthink something for once in her life, she forced her body to undo its tense state, and leaned into the Chief.
With a little maneuvering, 013 finally settled into a comfortable position against the Spartan, which was nowhere but between the Chief's legs. She smiled a huge smile before slowly closing her eyes, as she was feeling such inner peace that she hasn't felt for weeks, months. Her hand came up to rest on his hand for the third time – and he didn't pull away when she slowly laced her fingers together with his.
Jeff would never believe her if she told him that she'd practically slept with the Chief.
'Napped, NAPPED – not slept!' She corrected herself quickly.
However…
"Wait, why did you have your helmet on top of the lockers?" 013 glanced up towards Chief, her grey eyes seeking out his ocean blue. During his moment of silence, 013 couldn't help but let her eyes slide over all the planes of his face – she really admired how he looked, from the crinkles at his eyes to the hard lines of his mouth. Every nook and cranny of his facial futures spoke of hardships and an eventful lifetime, and the scar across his mouth she found extremely intriguing. So intriguing, that she didn't notice how her free hand had travelled up, up towards his mouth. The soft touch of her finger against his skin caused the Spartan to, dare she say it? – twitch. She felt it through his body into hers.
She smiled another soft smile, her finger remaining against him despite how she noticed that it shook a little. Most likely out of nerves, if her internal body check was anything to go by – her nerves were on fire from being able to touch this powerful man so casually, that she lay on top of.
It all felt rather surreal, that she was here, sharing a moment with the one she never thought wanted to be in such close proximity like this with her.
She felt his hand envelop hers, and soon the entirety of her palm was pressed softly against his jaw.
She could feel the light stubble underneath.
She also felt how the corner of his lip seemingly curved upwards in a small, soft smile of his own, and 013 almost heard how her heart skipped a beat at this notation.
The Chief's eyes caught hers for a moment, looking right at her – they seemed to be smoldering. They then slowly closed shut, and he inhaled a deep breath.
"I took it off for training purposes." Came his answer, spoken lowly. She felt the baritone of his voice reverberate into her own.
It was extremely pleasant, and she couldn't ignore how it sent tingles to a place below her midsection.
"Ah…" She exhaled, her eyes following his, closing them.
She would soon come to fall asleep, as she finally gave in to the exhaustion that dominated her body.
During the whole time she remained asleep, their hands remained entwined, unmoved.
