Rushing through the long hallways of the lab, Tom let himself get pulled along by Tord. The Norsk claimed he had a surprise for him, and before Tom could ask anything about it, Tord just grabbed his hand and rushed out of the Brit's quarters.
It's been about two weeks since they returned from their camping trip and officially announced their relationship status to Paul and Patrick. As expected, the duo went absolutely bonkers when they found out; derailing into a lot of high pitched shrieking, shaking, and jumping up and down. And all of that was just Paul alone. Patrick had been more reserved in that aspect, simply congratulating the two but still barely holding back his enthusiasm, unlike his partner who straight up tackled-hugged Tord to the ground in his excitement.
"Couldn't this wait until morning?" Tom yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his other hand.
Tord glanced back at him with a grin. "Tired, Thomas?" He chuckled. "I'll be honest, your present arrived early this morning but it completely slipped my mind until this very moment, and as of right now I am way too eager to see your reaction to be patient enough for tomorrow."
Now it was Tom's turn to laugh. "Do you realize just how much you sound like a kid on Christmas Eve right now?"
The Norsk shrugged slyly. "Perhaps. But trust me, Tom. It will be worth it."
Regaining his footing and trying his best to keep up with Tord's long strides, Tom simply sighed. He wondered what the surprise could possibly be to provoke Tord to be this excited about it. Tom would be lying if he said his interest hadn't piqued.
I guess I'll just have to wait and see what all the fuss is about.
Tord led him to Patrick's study, but they did not stay in the room for very long as they reached the opposite end, and entered Paul and Pat's quarters through the kitchen. Stepping into the living room, Tord paused before the wall and placed his hand on it, causing the elevator to manifest.
Tom watched it open up before them, his brows furrowing with scepticism. "Hey, I don't wanna complain or anything, especially because this is all for a surprise for me, but would it have killed you to make the elevator slightly bigger?"
Tord tugged him along as they stepped into the small lift. "It's a tight fit, I know, but the trip is short so we'll be out before you realize." The two of them squeezed into the small space, the lift doors closing behind them. The confining area forced them to be flush right up against each other's chests; only now just realizing the intimacy of the situation, the two simultaneously blushed when making eye contact. Tord played it off with a smirk. "Well, but this arrangement certainly isn't all that bad. ~" He practically purred, staring into Tom's bottomless eyes.
"Whatever." Tom grumbled half-heartedly, trying to divert his gaze to hide his blushing face. "I guess there are worse places to be."
Leaning closer, Tord gently touched Tom's forehead with his own. He breathed out a soft sigh, and continued to watch the Brit's facial expressions shift ever so slightly. His robotic hand gently wound up around Tom's waist, bringing him even closer to his form. Tom stiffened, only to immediately relax in his hold as he snapped his gaze back up to Tord's. His other arm snaked over to cup the side of Tom's face, softly trailing his thumb over his cheek.
"Tord?"
"Hmm?"
"We're here."
Snapping out of his trance, Tord blinked in surprise and glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough the elevator doors were opened to his office.
"Oh right, sorry." He stepped back, giving Tom some space but still maintaining contact with him as his robotic arm shifted from his waist over to his arm. "I got a little carried away." He cleared his throat, and stepped off the lift; bringing Tom along as they held hands.
They strolled into the mahogany red room side by side. Reaching the desk, Tord pulled out a blue box from beneath it, neatly wrapped with a purple ribbon. "Here you go." He handed it over to Tom. "Consider this your early graduation present. Hope you like it."
Tom took the gift from him. "Thanks?" Placing his head against the box, he shook it lightly in his grip to listen for some kind of hint as to what the surprise present could be.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Tord prompted. "It's yours! Go ahead and open it." Weighting the box in his hands, Tom went to undo the purple bow. "Oh- not here! I suggest you go over to my room and test out your present there." Tord halted him, gesturing to the door to his right. He fumbled with his pocket until he fished out a cigar, and popped it into his mouth. Tord pulled out a lighter next. "You go on ahead, I'll join you shortly. I just need to finish off some paperwork, and I'll be done for the day." He says, his words muffled by the cigar in his mouth as he lighted it up.
"Okay?"
Settling himself on top of his desk, Tord watched Tom move away to leave the room through the door leading to his private chamber. Tom glanced back at him, holding the door open.
Tord shot him a reassuring smile, breathing out a puff of smoke. "It's alright. I promise you it's nothing perverted, I swear!"
"It better well not be!" Tom warned, stepping out of the office.
Hearing the door gently shut behind him, Tom sighed. The gift still in his hands, he moved closer toward the king-sized bed and sat down. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Tom began to unwrap the present.
"What did he mean? Graduation present?" Tom couldn't help but wonder out loud. Ripping out the last of the wrapper, he opened the lid to the box. He froze. Blank, dark eyes staring down at the contents of the package.
"Oh?"
Meanwhile, in the other room; Tord breathed out another cloud of smoke before putting out his cigar. With that done, he turned around and reached down, pulling out another box from beneath his desk. Unlike the one he gifted Tom with, this present is long and slimmer, wrapped up in blue paper and tied up with an elegant red ribbon.
He unveiled the bow and let the gift-wrappings fall to the floor, revealing a fancy, shiny wooden casing with the Red army's logo branded on the cover. Humming, Tord paused to admire it for a second or two before proceeding.
Well I'll be damned! Bing sure outdid himself this time. He mused, tracing his fingertips over the smooth wooden surface.
Tord moved his hand to the latch, flipped it over, and opened the casing to reveal the special delivery he'd been waiting all this time to arrive. Tord grinned, his gaze raking over the object in question before he carefully took hold of it, setting the casing down on the desk, for a closer inspection.
The scabbard is made out of black leather, though the material still felt pretty resistant in his touch, with the army's logo engraved on it, neatly concealing the deadly blade tucked inside.
Without further delay Tord grabbed the dark crimson hilt with his prosthetic hand, and slowly pulled out of its sheathe to reveal a sword; sharp, elegant, and light in his grip as he gave an experimental twirl in his hand. Tord admired the blade's workmanship, gently grazing his finger over the edge. He did not even flinch when a tiny cut formed on the tip of his finger, already knowing the true nature of the weapon.
Peering into the blade itself he could see a purplish tint to it; no doubt the consequence of the monster's claw, broken down to its simplest fragments and melded together with steel to create this beautiful weapon.
In hindsight, creating a sword out of the claw may have been an exaggeration on his part, Tord is well aware of that fact. No one uses swords nowadays, not even in times of war. But as he looked upon his own reflection in the blade's surface, Tord felt no regrets. It is no secret that he loves weapons, guns especially, but a sword ain't half-bad either. And who knows? It might prove useful in the future.
Carefully, Tord sheathed the sword and returned to its casing before latching it shut. He will have to find a suitable place to store it, but for now he'll leave it on his desk.
Remembering why he was in his office to begin with, Tord perked up and hopped off his desk; striding over to knock on his bedroom door. "Tom? How's your surprise going?"
He heard a few frustrated grumbles coming from within the room. "I'm fine! Mostly!"
"Are you decent? Can I come in?" Tord questioned, his hand over the door knob.
"Uh, yeah- just give me a sec!"
Twisting the knob, Tord pushed the door open and walked into his quarters. He froze, the door closing behind him as he sets his sights on the figure standing across from him. Tord blinked perplexed. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find- actually, yes he did. He's the one who got the gift in the first place, so logically he'd known what was inside the box. But none of his expectations could ever measure up to the real thing that stands before him. His jaw dropped.
Standing near the bed half-turned towards Tord, the eyeless Brit he'd grew so close to over the course of time, donned his new attire. The black and blue uniform clung well to Tom's form; making his body look lithe and nimble, especially his lower half, while concealing the strong, sturdy muscles beneath the fabric. A perfect blend of agility and strength all put into one body, and enhanced by the outfit's overall design.
Growing increasingly more frustrated with his failed attempts of setting up his last article of clothing, a black tie, Tom cursed and turned around only to lock gazes with Tord, still frozen and watching him with adoration.
Tom stared back at him, somewhat bashful, and cleared his throat as he extended his arms out to show off his garb. "So? How do I look?"
The Norsk's one-eyed gaze raked over Tom, going from his unruly spiky hair all the way down to his brand new, shiny black combat boots. "You look…" He trailed off, unable to find the proper word that could come even close enough to convey his opinion. His mouth parched the longer he stared at Tom. Tord gave him another once-over, appreciating the somewhat dishevelled look the unbuttoned indigo blue shirt and dark gray vest, combined with the black tie left forgotten around his neck, gave the eyeless man.
Tom is just simply breath-taking.
"Stunning."
"You think so?" Tom looked down at himself, checking his clothes. "But I don't really get it. What is this? I mean, what's it for?"
Stepping closer to him, Tord smiled. "It's your new uniform, of course! What else could it be?"
Tom looked up in bewilderment. "My uniform?" He echoed. "You mean like, my soldier outfit?"
Tord nodded. "You are expected to wear it for the ceremony next week, and from then on, whenever you are in duty."
"Ah oka- wait, what ceremony?!"
"You really need to start paying more attention, Thomas." Tord sighed, but his gray eye held a gleam of humour. "It is your rank-up ceremony. You'll be officially moving up from private to soldier." He explained, placing the palm of his red metallic hand on the Brit's shoulder. "Like I said; you're graduating."
Letting the puzzle pieces arrange themselves inside his head with this newfound information, Tom whirls around and begins to walk toward the mirror, getting a better look at his own appearance. "If that's the case, how come my uniform is so drastically different from yours or from everyone else's for that matter?" He inquired with a tilt of his head.
Tord's smile fell. "You don't like it?"
"No, no! I do! I promise I do! It is a great outfit, and I like it very much." Tom's reassurances died off, his tone growing wistful and for a split second a frown was on his face. Probably more than I should. He thought with a twinge of guilt in his stomach. He brushed it off. "But uh, it's a little bit off-putting to be wearing black and blue while everyone else is red and blue instead. Singles me out, you know?" Tom admits, turning away from the mirror the face Tord. "And yeah, I am a Red Army soldier that's not wearing any red. That's also kind of odd."
A small knowing grin returned to Tord's face. He stepped closer to Tom, fastening the buttons of his shirt. "The uniform I ordered the tailors to make was designed especially for you. It is made of a very special cloth that is meant to help with your transformation issues. It won't rip or disintegrate, but it will be integrated into your skin upon shifting."
"What are you saying? That I'll be wearing the uniform even when I turn?" Tom couldn't help the image of his monster self, sporting a larger version of his suit pop into his mind and he had to bite his lips in order to stifle a chuckle at the silly thought.
Tord must've guessed what crossed the Brit's mind, because the next moment he rolled his eye and shook his head with a flash of amusement. "In a way, yes. But not in the way you're thinking." Finishing off the last of the buttons, he reached the collar of Tom's shirt to grab the abandoned tie, and he began to properly set it around his neck. "And concerning the colour; if I remember correctly, a certain someone once protested that red wasn't their style? Hm?"
A low hum rumbled through Tom, his posture straight as he watched Tord expertly fold the tie of his uniform for him. "Well, I don't think red is all that bad- UGH!" He choked when Tord pulled the tie way too tight on him, only for the Norsk to immediately alleviate the grip and adjust his tie to stay neatly in place. "Damn ties! I've always hated those things. So bothersome to deal with, and no one likes them."
His words died out just as soon as they left his lips, when a robotic hand gently grasped his chin and lifted his head to make eye-contact with the Norwegian man; smirking just inches away from his face.
"Don't be so harsh, Thomas." He trailed his metallic thumb delicately over the eyeless man's lips, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper. "They may start out a nuisance at first, even right down infuriating at times." As he spoke, Tord's other hand snaked behind Tom and cradled the back of his head, tugging at his hair. He leaned closer, until their noses barely brushed. "But once you get used to them you'll be amazed to find that they have a certain charm to them. In a weird, and unique sort of way that nothing else could possibly compare it to."
Watching Tom's face so closely, Tord could easily tell by the tiny shift in his eyes that he was studying his features as well.
Standing so close to each other, their breaths mingling together, Tom raised his hand to gently place it over the Norwegian's scarred flesh; earning a sigh of contentment. Not breaking his gaze, Tom peered into Tord's one, visible eye, entranced by the silver orb staring back at him.
They just stood there. In the dim lit room, under a comfortable silence, looking into each other's eyes fondly.
"Why do I have a feeling you are not actually talking about the tie?" Tom murmurs quietly under his breath.
Grunting out a small laugh, Tord finally put an end to the short distance between them and leaned forward to capture Tom's lips with his in a passionate kiss.
Eyes fluttering shut, Tom leaned forward to deepen the contact, feeling the hand on the back of his head run fingers through his locks.
After a few heartbeats, they parted away slightly to catch their breath. But one look at the other through half-lidded eyes, and they went right back to it. Through every move and touch of their lips, the kiss grew progressively more heated.
At one point, Tord flicked his tongue over Tom's bottom lip, and without any hesitation on his part the eyeless man granted him entrance and their tongues met. Breathy moans and hums escaped them both. Tom threw his arms and wrapped them around Tord's neck, while the Norsk lowered his mechanical hand to undo the buttons of the Brit's shirt he'd fastened not even two minutes ago.
Tom let out a low moan, leaning forward even more until they're flushed against each other, leaving no space separating them. He did not care if Tord tasted like tobacco right now, because to him, at this very moment he was very much like a drug. Addicting. Tom just wanted to drown himself in him, feeling a powerful urge to take more and more of the Norwegian man as possible.
A burn, deep within their core scorched painfully and it could only be satiated with the other.
Tom is half aware of his accelerating heart, currently hammering against his chest with anticipation; but he was far too preoccupied in burying himself into Tord's embrace to really take any notice of it.
Momentarily losing himself, Tom began to back Tord into the wall behind him, still not breaking away from the fervent kiss. Taking slow, careful steps so that Tord could follow his movement without accidentally tripping along the way.
Tom pulled his arms away only to roughly shove the Norsk against the wall. Tord emitted a grunt of surprise at the abrupt action, his back pressed firmly to the wall. Before he could even get his bearings, Tom pounced on him and captured his lips in another intense kiss. Tord moaned and closed his eyes, enjoying Tom's dominance and rough treatment on him.
With one hand still tugging Tom's hair, Tord grabbed his hips with his robotic one; melting when their thighs brushed together and he felt Tom's hardness against his own.
Unaware of his own actions, Tom lifted Tord off the ground, pressing him further into the wall until the Norwegian man was towering above him. In response, Tord immediately wrapped his legs around Tom's waist bringing their hips together.
Tom broke away from him, only to trail down Tord's jawline, showering him in more kisses as he went farther down to his neck where he started to nip and lick; searching for Tord's sweet-spot. Tord stifled a moan by biting his lips, feeling a thin speck of his own saliva dribble down from the corner of his mouth as he glimpsed Tom attacking his neck.
Following his own urges Tom kissed, licked, and bit every trace of skin he could find, eventually coming across his target as he heard Tord's breath hitch, and a shiver run through him. Tom began to abuse that spot, sucking on the flesh and eliciting more moans of delight from the Norsk, who squirmed in his hold.
The more skin he tasted, the more tempted Tom was to bite down – especially in the damaged side of the neck where the flesh was fragile, and scars and burns littered all over. It would be so easy to break the skin, sink his teeth into the cleft and finally get a taste of the Norwegian's blood-
Wait…
Tom froze in his ministrations.
These aren't my thoughts!
When Tord leaned forward to capture his lips again, Tom moved his head away. "Wait."
"What's wrong?" Tord panted, gazing up at him; face flushed red and breathless.
Tom cupped the Norsk's face with one hand, gently grazing his fingers over his scars. He looks so beautiful looking up at him like this; as if Tom were his whole world. Tom had never been stared like that before.
"You know there's a good chance I could shift half-way through this, right?" Tom sighed.
Tord leaned into his touch. "I had a hunch."
"And you still want to go through with this?" Tom had to be absolutely sure this is what Tord wants. Last thing he needs is for Tord to panic if he were to accidentally turn monster during sex, and they have awkward encounters after that. Or worse, the chance of harming Tord without meaning to.
His thoughts trailed off as Tord leaned forward and pecked him on the lips slyly. "I trust you. You are in control of your other forms now, and I know you won't hurt me unless you mean it." He whispered. "Besides, I love taking risks."
Tom was ready to protest again, and remind him of the real danger he could be in should Tom lose control of himself at any given moment during the act. But Tord was faster, and he pressed their lips together in a deep passionate kiss that made Tom's resolve melt; wiping away any concerns he might've had and cementing Tord's overall stance on the matter.
He doesn't give a damn about danger. If anything, the thought of Tom turning into a monster only excited him more.
And soon, the only sounds that could be heard throughout the room was their duet of heavy breathing. Their clothes were long forgotten and sprawled about the bedroom floor. In bed, their legs were intertwined; a tail coiled neatly around one of Tord's ankles. Tom cuddled Tord from behind with his claws, the Norwegian's back pressed up against his bare chest. Tord reached up behind him to scratch one of Tom's ears, knowing he liked the gesture while in this form and received an affectionate nuzzle to his head in response and a deep rumbling purr to his ear.
"That… that was amazing. Thank you." Tord breathed. He punctuated by turning his head and returning Tom's nuzzle. The Norsk suddenly let out a quiet little laugh to himself. "We should do that again sometime soon." He smiled, enjoying the blissful, comfortable silence they were in. He was very glad Tom had been his first, with a guy; couldn't have been better.
Tom's eyes slowly blinked closed, his energy completely spent in the act of love. In a few minutes or so he will regress back to normal. For now though, he was content enough just spooning Tord and sleep beside him knowing that he was loved for who he is despite all his obscene flaws and that his life was now tied to Tord's, come what may.
Nothing could ruin this moment, or their future together.
(Meanwhile…)
"No…" Ella breathed, standing in rigid shock as she stared at the digital board looming over her.
"I know, right?" Reagan piped up beside her in disgust. "Fish gratin for dinner? Yuck! I'd rather swallow my own tongue, thanks. Whoever is in charge of arranging the menu deserves a good beating."
She subconsciously reached out to grip his arm, her heart pounding. "Not that…"
Confused, Reagan followed her gaze toward the board. It was bright and early in the morning, breakfast hasn't even started yet, and after spending another night together they decided to check on the digital board for today's schedules while there was no crowd to compete with. After several nights spent awake with Reagan, Ella was starting to get used to minimal sleep hours.
Scheduled under the patrols section, Ella's new squadron was selected for the night border patrol on that very same day.
"Yikes." Reagan sucked in air through his teeth. No wonder she was such a mess. "That's kinda messed up when you really think about it, huh? Strange, really. I mean, you would think after going through a thing like that someone would have the common decency to excuse you from border patrols forever-"
Ella suddenly bolted away from him, running down the hallways blindly. She didn't know where she was going. But she has to run and escape her fate. She has to hide where no one can ever find her. Her thoughts were whirling. I can't go through that again! She could already imagine the dark, stormy night again. The gargantuan creature that ambushed her and her friends. And all the bloodshed and screams that followed after. No. No! The monster is going to come for me again! I can't do this.
"Ella!"
A hand grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her in her tracks.
"Hold on." Reagan soothed, tugging her closer. "I understand you're upset. If I were in your place I would be too. But you know… you don't have to go on the border patrol if you don't really want to."
"B-but I have to! It's in the rules!" Ella protested, tearing up. "If I am absent from training or any of the mandatory duties we swore our loyalty to I could be kicked out! I really can't afford that, Reagan."
She got a sick twisted feeling in her gut. How could she not have seen how wrong all of this was before? She swore her life to an organization that did not care for her as an individual, out of sheer desperation, and now they keep her trapped here by her own word against herself.
Reagan frowned. "Not for just one day, you won't." He tilted her chin up to make her look at him. "Listen; you are a good soldier. You follow all the rules by the book, never complain, never get into trouble, and never even attempted to skip a single duty before now. I say you earned yourself a day-off, doll face."
"But-"
"One measly day-off won't hurt. You deserve a break! Besides, it's the least Red Leader owes you for all this mess he caused you." Reagan insisted, tipping his head. "If he is too stupid to see how you're totally in the right in all this, then I suppose I will have to do the honours of unofficially excusing you for the day myself."
Ella wiped away the tears building up in her eye and looked at him. Reagan seems to be her only friend in all of this, and the only one willing to open up to understand her. He means so much to her now; and he makes a very good point that was hard to argue against. She appreciates his effort of cheering her up.
Reagan smiled. "Say, how do you feel about spending the whole day out in the city?"
"That would be great…" Ella shifted, unsure. "Except today is a week day, and the trips to the city are only permitted on weekends. I guess we could try our luck and ask, but… oh, they will never let us leave the base. Especially since we're both in line for duties today."
"See? Now that's precisely what the problem with your thinking is! You are way too limited!" Reagan pointed out. "The trick here… is to not ask."
Ella lifted an eyebrow. "You know a way we can leave the base without anyone noticing?"
"I can pull a few strings here and there, and safely transport us out of here all the way to town." Reagan reassured her, still grinning. "It will involve breaking rules though. All I ask is that you trust me on this one. Are you in?" He held out his hand for her to take.
Ella considered his offer carefully for a couple heartbeats. She doesn't want to get in trouble. But taking into consideration how tired she was of the Red Army life and all the unfairness she deals with on a daily basis, her choice was obvious. Besides, how could she possibly refuse Reagan? She felt the pull of his charm, his quiet authority and sense that he always knew exactly the right thing to do. It was greatly ensnaring and hard to resist.
She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "All right." She grabbed his hand. "Let's hurry before we get caught then."
After a quick stop by their quarters to change into their civilian clothes, Reagan led her toward the hangar with no time to waste.
It won't be long before the rest of their comrades rise to start their busy day.
Reagan had everything planned in a matter of minutes. He knew for a fact that trucks would be heading for the city to restock the base's supplies soon. He and Ella snuck their way around the hangar, dodging detection from the few soldiers bustling about in charge of the transportation. He instructed Ella to wait nearby while he found one of the few individuals he has current influence over. Reagan swiped the unsuspecting guy's wallet right out from his pocket, and then proceeded to bribe the poor fellow with his own money to let them in one of the trucks heading for the city.
Once the whole procedure was over and done with, Reagan signalled for Ella to follow him as he hopped on the back of a loading truck.
Ella's heart was racing inside her chest every step of the way. Every fibre of her being was practically screaming at her to change her mind while there's still time and go back, eat breakfast, and go about her day just dreading the awful night patrol with a new squadron that don't care much for her. She was terrified of getting caught. She'd never done anything like this before.
And it secretly thrilled her.
The danger of getting caught. The idea of doing what she wants as opposed to only doing what was expected of her. And Reagan carries this vibe of being wholeheartedly confident in his actions; as though this was just another ordinary day for him and he'd done this countless times. He probably has. But it soothed her. He knew what he was doing and he won't let her get in trouble. She felt safe with him around, and fully trusts him to get her in and out of the base without notice.
They hid behind a couple of boxes in the back of a truck, sitting down with their knees tucked in close to their chests to appear as small and unnoticeable as possible as they waited for the trucks to start moving out.
Ella's stomach rumbled. Perhaps leaving before breakfast was a mistake.
"You hungry?" Reagan prompted, fumbling with his pockets. "I got like… three mints; a couple of chocolate bars; and chewing gum, if you want anything?"
The journey to the city was a long and shaky one, and somewhat uncomfortable. It was also very disorientating considering there were no windows to peer out and see just how close to their destination they were. At one point, Ella must've drifted off because next thing she knew the truck had stopped and Reagan was motioning for her to follow him.
After a little more sneaking around, they finally broke off into the city.
It's a bright, sunny day with hardly any clouds in the pristine blue sky above them. It was windy but the sunlight was strong. Ella closed her eye against the soft breeze, relishing the fresh air. She couldn't remember the last time she'd left the confinements of the base.
Reagan and she made their way around town with no clear destination; merely chatting and studying their surroundings at a leisurely pace.
Crossing a wide white stone bridge over a river, the cobblestone streets ahead of them were lined with shops and food stands where a good number of people were wandering about.
Ella kept her head lowered, walking a tad slower than Reagan. While part of her immensely happy to be outside again, there was still the issue with her haunting new look. Already used to the way the soldiers back in the base always react to her, she braced herself for all the odd and horrified glances she was certainly going to receive out here.
However, much to her surprise as Reagan and her stopped by a cafe for brunch, the waitress that served them was not only incredibly polite but did not seem the least bit bothered by her appearance as she took their orders. Ella was shocked to say the least, but brushed that interaction off as a one-time deal.
She seems nice enough, but everyone else out here will react the same as everybody else.
But as they finished their food and went about their stroll through town, Ella was continually perplexed to find that although some people did give her odd looks no one seemed to be uncomfortable with her presence.
"Something the matter, doll face?" Reagan prompted, taking notice of her vivid confusion.
"I'm not sure…" Ella murmured while looking around. "Is it me or the people out here are much nicer than our comrades back at the base?"
Reagan smirked. "Well of course it would seem that way to you. After being cooped up in that overcrowded base to heal your wounds all by yourself, normal human decency must seem like a strange concept to you, huh?"
"But how come?" She asked, her gaze sweeping over the stalls where merchants were setting their goods out for sale.
"Red Leader's influence is both poisonous and contagious to say the least." Reagan went on, all the while eyeing a wallet peeking out of an unsuspecting guy's pocket before swiftly pickpocketing it for himself. "It's not our comrades' faults, mind you. I'm sure under different circumstances they wouldn't have minded your injury either. But living in that facility for years and getting hammered over the head every single day about how important it is that we show our loyalty and gratitude to the Red Army does things to you. It's all brainwash nonsense really."
His casual tone unnerved Ella greatly. How can he say such things and not be the least bit alarmed by the weight of his own words?
Ella recalled her years of service in the Red Army, how rewarding and sometimes even fun it was at the beginning alongside her group of friends. Red Leader's goal hasn't changed since then. He plans to wage war on the world and conquer everything one land at a time. She had always known that. At the time the idea frightened her, but she'd pushed it aside for Zach and focused the prospect of carving an independent life for herself away from her overbearing family. But now all Ella could worry about was the sort of future Red Leader intends to shape once the world is his, and what will become of the general population under his rule.
She was brought out of her troubling thoughts when she accidentally bumped into Reagan from behind. Ella looked up in confusion only to find her friend frozen, and his gaze fixed on one of the stalls where a bunch of colourful animal hats were being sold. "Reagan?"
"I need that…" He pointed at a plush pig hat, his gaze not once wavering away. He stepped closer to boop the hat's snout and was delighted to find that it made pig noises. "I need this in my life, like, right now."
Ella watched with amusement as he proceeded to fumble with his pockets for the cash he just stole in order to obtain the strange cute hat.
"Wow, you must really like pigs, huh?" She giggled.
Reagan turned to face her already wearing the pig hat, a huge grin on his face. She'd never seen him this happy before. "Why wouldn't I? They're the best animal! They come in a variation of colours, different sizes, taste great, can dispose of a body for you, they can be wooly or naked, they make funny noises, and have cute little snouts and ears. Truly, we don't deserve them."
He pressed down on the strands of the hat that make up the pig's paws to flop the little ears. Reagan was practically buzzing with excitement at this point. She'd never seen him this happy before. It was endearing.
From then on, the two of them spent the rest of their day simply goofing around and enjoying their freedom. They went to the movies, took silly pictures in the photo booth, and ended their day by going to a karaoke bar and getting drunk. Ella never drank in excess before this, but Reagan made her want to throw caution to the wind and just forget all her troubles.
But eventually all good things must come to an end. That's what Ella told herself as she glanced at the clock and realized how late it's gotten.
They need to go back to the base.
She really didn't want to. She would give anything to stay out here longer, but the army's rules simply did not correlate with her wishes.
Well, it's a good thing Reagan didn't care about any of that. "Leaving? No, no, doll face; the whole point of coming out here was for you to take a break and avoid your dreadful duties. If we go back to base now they will surely make you go on that night patrol." He told her, grinning widely. "We're staying overnight!"
Ella truly wasn't expecting that.
They looked for a hotel for them to spend the night in; using a good portion of the money Reagan stole from people throughout the day to pay for it. But had only enough to afford for one room. That was fine by both of them.
Their room was a nice but simple one. A queen sized bed with purple and white sheets took most of the space in the room, a night stand with a lamp to the left of it, a large wall of mirrors to the right, and a mini fridge was situated close by a large television in front of a long red couch.
"You can take the bed." Reagan said, immediately accommodating himself on the couch. "Provided you don't mind me watching telly for the rest of the night that is?"
"Of course! I don't mind at all." After everything Reagan has done for her, this is the least she can do for him. With him being unable to sleep he needs some form of entertainment to get through the entire night after all.
As they turned off the lights and settled down for the night, Ella couldn't stop the immense gratitude and happy feeling that surged through her as she fell asleep. If it weren't for Reagan, she would be back at the base at this exact moment preparing to head out on a night patrol with her new squadron, terrified out of her wits that Red Leader's beast would break out of containment and attack her again. But even more than that, he made her happier than she's ever been since that one terrible night.
He's her friend. Her companion for everything. The only one who ever gave her a chance.
Thoughts of the Red Army and the secret she promised to keep for Red Leader made her rest uneasy. Once again, like every other night she was being haunted by the gruesome events that took everything away from her and the terrible creature responsible.
Ella woke up with a start. Glancing at the clock on the night stand next to her, it was nearly three in the morning. She tried to fall back asleep again but it was no use. The horrifying images wouldn't leave her alone.
Distressed Ella slipped out of her bed and glanced over to where Reagan was. She expected to find her companion still watching television, flickering through all the channels as he searched for something to entertain him. But what she actually found left her slightly speechless.
Reagan… was asleep.
He was sprawled on the couch, taking over all the space, lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head. His chest slowly rising and falling with his breathing.
Ella stepped closer and leaned over him perplexed. So he can sleep! But why lie to her about that? As she tried to understand his reasoning behind this lie, and maybe give him the benefit of the doubt, her eye scanned his body from top to bottom, taking in every detail of his figure.
Despite being asleep, Reagan appeared more serious this way than any other time she's ever seen him awake before. It's as though he were a completely different person in his sleep. If she lets her mind wander, he almost looks downright furious even. Regardless of his current facial expression and loud personality, there was no denying that Reagan was indeed physically handsome. And he always seems to carry a certain charm with him whenever he speaks.
In her silent assessment however, she caught a glimpse of a mark peeking out from under the slightly drawn back sleeves of his arms. She squinted to see better with the lighting of the television. It was hard to make out against the flickering light, but it appeared to be some sort of purple and red bruises dotting his forearm and vanishing into the sleeves of his coat. They were faint and old, but unmistakable. These were definitely track marks.
Something glinted in the corner of her eye and she jerked her gaze down towards Reagan's chest. The light from the TV had reflected on a tiny silver piece of a necklace that hung loosely around Reagan's neck, partially hidden beneath his shirt.
Ella leaned forward more to try and get a better look when her shadow fell over Reagan.
His eyes snapped open at once, and in an instant he grabbed her wrists in a vice grip and bolted upright. His quick and alarmed actions took Ella by surprise, but in the commotion she noticed the pendant around his neck rattled out from underneath his shirt and she could see that it was a silver fang of sorts.
Reagan stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time, his eyes never straying away from hers. Once the immediate sense of danger had worn over and he realized where he was and who was with him, Reagan relaxed and slowly loosened his grip on her.
"I'm sorry." Ella blurted. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"No harm done." Reagan drawled, slipping back into his laidback persona. "It's adorable that you think a little thing like you could frighten me."
Ella stared down at him, her eye narrowed. "You lied to me." She breathed. "You told me couldn't sleep."
"I said I don't sleep. Never said that I couldn't." Reagan pointed out, rubbing his eyes to wipe the sleep away.
"But… why do this to yourself then?"
Reagan sighed. "I just think sleep is a waste of time, that's all. I can get some many things done during the night while everyone else is asleep and the rest of the base is left unoccupied." He explained matter of factly. "Besides, sleep is when we are at our most vulnerable. Every time we go to sleep you close your eyes with the hope that nothing bad will happen to you while in this stage, and that somehow you'll make it through to see the next day intact. And truth be told, I am not exactly confident that my comrades won't try anything with me in my sleep when most have a strong tendency to dislike me. So I rather avoid that."
"But you need to rest too." Ella argued. "You can't just spend your whole life avoiding sleep just because you have trust issues."
"It's fine, doll face. I am already used to it. And I take breaks once in a while… I sleep only when I am completely sure that I am safe to do so." Reagan said, waving her off. "Admittedly it's not a very common occurrence, but when they happen I make the most of it."
Ella felt her heart flutter slightly in her chest at the implication that Reagan not only trusts her but feels safe enough around her to sleep.
"What were you doing before I woke up anyway?" Reagan inquired, curious to know why she was standing over him and not asleep like she is meant to be.
Now knowing how much sleep must be a precious concept to Reagan, Ella was having second thoughts about her intentions. "Never mind." She ducked her head in embarrassment, leaning away. "I'm sorry for waking you up-"
"Not so fast." Reagan pulled her back and onto the couch until she was practically sitting on his lap. "You wanted something from me, I'm sure. What is it?"
Ella gulped, her face flushing as she recollected her thoughts "W-well, I just… I had another nightmare about my friends."
"Again?"
"And I couldn't fall back asleep again." She met his gaze, her eye glistening. "I was hoping you were awake to distract me or something… but it's fine if you want to go back to sleep. I know you must be tired."
She tried to pull away but Reagan only tugged her closer "Now how can I possibly let this slide and go back to sleep knowing that my friend is distressed? You know you can tell me anything, right?" His green stare bore into hers.
Trembling, Ella lowered her gaze and leaned forward to wrap her arms around Reagan, resting her good ear against the centre of his chest. She could hear his heartbeat thrumming steadily and felt him tense up in her grasp before slowly relaxing.
Rolling his eyes, Reagan let her hug him before begrudgingly returning the gesture; running his hands up and down her sides in a soothing motion. Anything to get closer to the juicy truth.
"You are scared, I can tell." He said softly. "These nightmares of yours… whatever happened to you that one night is going to destroy you if you keep this up. You can't bottle this up forever, doll face."
"I know. Trust me, I want to tell you… but I made a promise to Red Leader." Ella confessed, nuzzling into his chest for comfort. "He is counting on me not to spread panic throughout the base. No one must ever know what really took place in the Border Patrol Massacre."
"It's not your responsibility to patch up his mistakes. You don't owe Red Leader anything. Twenty four people died that night - your friends - because of his recklessness! They are dead and no one will ever know the truth of what happened that night." Reagan argued. "No one but you. You're going to live with that memory for the rest of your life, and yet Red expects you to brush the whole incident off and let this secret eat away at you."
Ella didn't answer. She tightened her grip on Reagan.
"Frankly, it's just not fair to you. Imagine how much better you'll feel once you open up to someone about this."
The happy wonderful feeling Ella acquired throughout the day after she left the confinements of the Red Army Base and strolled around town with Reagan slowly abandoned her as the reality of her situation slowly crashed down on top of her. This was not her life anymore. She was deceived by Red Leader to hand over her freedom and individuality. She was nothing more to him than a means for success; regardless if the consequences have positive or negative effects for her. The Red Leader simply doesn't care. In a couple of hours, the whole day spent with Reagan out in town will come to an end, as they must return to the base later today and resume their duties. After a whole day of normalcy and fun away from constant duties, orders, pitying glances, and secrecy, Ella really didn't want this trip to end. Not yet.
With the little time she has left out here, Ella wants to gain back control of her life. Brief as it may be.
Maybe it was the alcohol still in her system after their trip to the bar, or maybe Reagan's daring ways were finally rubbing off on her; but with her mind made up and feeling particularly bold she lifted her head and started peppering kisses up Reagan's neck.
His breath hitched and he froze under her unexpected ministrations. Oh? Oh! His mind quickly processed the situation. He hadn't seen this one coming. I was aiming for a confession out of her, not this… but what the heck - who am I to complain? This works for me too.
"A monster."
He heard her whisper under her breath as she reached his jawline.
Reagan moved his hands to her waist. "What was that?"
Ella lifted her head to meet his gaze and she cupped his cheek in her hand. Reagan hesitated, then leaned into her touch. The way she delicately traced his scar with her thumb somewhat startled him. He'd never felt such gentleness before. He usually prefers it rough, anyway.
"It was a monster that attacked my squadron and I that night." Ella repeated, her voice quivering. She tucked her head beneath his and ran her hands through his arms and shoulders to remove his coat. "Red Leader is keeping a monster underneath the base."
