A Trail of Smoke and Smugglers (Santi/PopexReader)

A Fallen Angel

[A/N: Hello my lovelies! Here is the next chapter for you all! I'm trying to spread out the episodes as much as possible to utilize the plot from the movie and the one that pertains to this book. As always, I hope you enjoy! -K 🖤]

[🌿This chapter contains swearing and angst.🌿]
***
The unmistakable sound of a door closing immediately caused me to open my eyes from an already restless sleep. I straightened myself, pulling my jacket from my legs, now sitting up with my palms on the floor.

From the sunlight pouring into the room from the blinds of the window, I determined that it was late in the morning, as the sun of Wednesday timidly reached through the blinds to lazily paint the floor and over my weapons with tendrils of soft light.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the apartment, the sounds reaching the farthest bedroom where I had been sleeping, or at least, trying to for many hours. My hand didn't have to reach far to grip my always ready pistol, now suddenly standing and breathing heavily.

Someone had broken into the apartment.

I rushed to stand, approaching the bedroom door and pressed my back flat against the wall next to the closed door. I grabbed the handle, silently turning it until the mechanism released. The door quietly opened and I peeked my head around the corner, using both hands to aim my pistol down the darkened corridor, but found no perpetrator in the dim hallway.

My jaw was clamped tightly, my muscles tense in aggression, frustration, and exhaustion. With stealthy steps and a whispered breath, I began to walk down the hallway. The doors to the other bedroom and bathroom were shut, just like I had confirmed before I secluded myself to the back room only a few hours prior.

There was a shuffling towards the kitchen and I gripped the handle of the gun tighter, continuing to approach the unfortunate person who decided that this apartment was their next target.

And now they were mine.

I exited the hallway and found the culprit, his hunched back facing towards me, investigating something in his hands intently. I noticed the straps of the object from whatever he was holding and gritted my teeth.

He had my fucking backpack.

Suddenly, he stood up straighter, revealing an all too familiar blue baseball cap on his head. He also happened to turn around at the same time, still holding onto my bag with both hands.

Our eyes met in a raging battle of two opposing sides. His investigative and concerned eyes were contenders against my own wrathful stare.

Santi raised his hands in surrender, but continued to hold onto the handle of my bag. "Hey, hey!" He snapped, his eyebrows displaying a scowl that was now on his face. "Put the gun down, (Y/N). Is this how you treat all your guests? If you even have any."

I walked towards him, still pointing the gun at him, pressing against his defined chest, noticeable under his dark t-shirt. "You're not a guest. You fucking broke in, Santi." I grumbled, reaching for my bag to which he pulled away from me. I glared into his eyes, hoping he would understand that I would gladly take out his already bad knees.

"Correction. I didn't break in." His eyes darted from the barrel against his skin to my obviously pissed expression. "Tom gave me a key, okay? Said you needed help moving some stuff to his house."

Tom and I had agreed over drinks last night, directly after Benny and I's fight, that I would move into his house before we left for the recon in South America. However, we didn't agree on him sending Santiago to help me, let alone today.

I didn't need his help anyways.

My eyes closed and I attempted to control my erratic breathing. "I gave that key to my brother, because I trusted him, and so he could stop by when he wanted. Not you." I dejectedly lowered the gun and fashioned it in the back of my pants, similarly to how I had greeted Tom just a few days ago.