His Muse ( Simon Riley x Soap MacTavish x Reader )

Six

There's a little disclaimer at the end to explain things ;)

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He doesn't take his eyes off me.

I suddenly feel small under his watch. His eyes look so dark from where I sit. Looking nothing like the icy blue I had seen before. It feels as though I can't inhale properly without staggering my breath. He makes me feel so helpless with a simple glance.

I quickly looked away, pretending it was nothing and that I wasn't just caught staring at him. I feel his eyes linger.

When I look back, he's gone. I didn't even hear him leave. I look around, trying to see where he went. Gone, it was as if he had disappeared into thin air. I blink for several seconds, reimagining what just happened. A part of me believes this encounter was only a fragment of my imagination. It was just strange. He was strange.

_________________________________

The air smelled of rain. This reminded me of my home. I lived in Seattle, Washington, for the majority of my life before I enlisted. My mom and I would sit on our front porch as the rain came in. It rained so much, and it was the only comfort from home that followed me.

A few minutes pass when a drop of water suddenly falls onto my cheek. I look up as several more raindrops fall. The sky suddenly twisted into a dark grey downpour. I couldn't help but smile as I looked up. I inhaled deeply, reminiscing over the past. I got up from where I sat and ran to the barn as fast as I could, trying not to get drenched. The ground was slick under my feet, making it harder for me to run. As I ran inside, I realized my clothes were soaked anyway, making them cling to my body. I was slightly panting while wringing my hair out before I realized the clicking noise of the ignition.

Soap is inside, trying to start the truck.

"Does it not start?" I ask, walking into his view.

He doesn't look at me, "No, the fucking battery is dead," He replies, frustrated. Soap's attention then turns to me as he takes in my appearance for a second.

"Is it raining?" he asks with a broad smile. He wipes his hands with a cloth from all the black grease, which makes it smear all over his hands.

"Can't you hear it on the metal roof?" I ask, grinning. My eyes shoot to his hands as he fails to wipe away the grease.

"I wasn't paying attention," He replies, looking at where my eyes fall. "You want to help."

"I'm not the best with vehicles. I wouldn't be much help," I say, looking up at him as he gets out of the truck.

"Any help is helpful," he replies while walking to the front of the car, "do you know how to open the bonnet?"

I stare blankly at him, "the what?"

"Oh, my bad, The hood of the car," Soap says mockingly.

"Why the hell would you call that a bonnet," I crawl into the vehicle and pop the hood.

"We just do where I'm from," Soap lifts the hood revealing the engine. He looks at it for a few seconds quietly while clenching his jaw.

"What're you thinking," I asked, looking at the engine and then up at him.

"Either we find a tractor around here with a working battery, or we do it the old fashion way." He looks at me.

"What's the old fashion way?"

"We put the truck in second gear and roll it outside, then pop the clutch as it goes down a hill, and it should start like that."

"How do you know all this?" I ask with wide eyes.