Black Swan | Ghost & König [I] ✓

chapter 24

"Fuck," you hissed, extreme white-hot pain shooting through the side of your head like a millions needles. You typically had a high pain tolerance, but this injury was like no other.

"Stay still," Kilgore murmured, his bare hands steady as they hovered over your head. He attacked your injury with forceps and a cotton ball doused in alcohol, dabbing at your injury repetitively.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" You pried one eye open to look at him. Kilgore had his cloth mask off. He had strewn it to the side earlier. He needed to get a "better look" at your injury, or so he says.

You had already seen him without his sniper veil all the way back in Mexico at Alejandro's safe house, but the sight of his matured face was something you'd never get tired of seeing. The dark blond stubble on his chin, his smooth, chiseled face, his sharp nose and sunken, seemingly always tired eyes... He was quite beautiful, you must admit.

It made you wonder what Simon looked like.

"I was a combat medic for a while back in my old battalion," Kilgore muttered, "so, yeah, I know what I'm doing."

"What did you perform medical care on horses?" you said. As if in response, he dabbed the cotton ball on your head with more force, causing the sharp pain to shoot up your nerves once again. "Ow!"

"No," he said plainly. "But you don't learn to be gentle when your dealing with men with their legs blown off while you're getting shot at from all directions."

"Touché," you acknowledged. You then referred to your injury, "How bad is it?"

"Not bad," Kilgore hummed. He pushed some of your dark hair out of the way. "Not bad at all. I mean you broke the skin off your head, but it'll heal with some stitches."

"Not bad?" you said in disbelief. Seriously? That's not bad to him? Well, at least it explained why you were in so much pain earlier. You just about almost knocked yourself out.

He stopped what he was doing, and then met his gaze with you, growing serious all at once. "[Y/N], I've seen worse, honestly." You knew just by looking into his eyes exactly what he meant. And I mean, hey, you've been in the military for years now, let's be honest, you've seen exactly what he meant.

"It's just..." you scoffed, shaking your head in disapproval of yourself. He grabbed your chin and stilled your movement so that he could continue to clean your wound. You shot him a quick glare, but finished your sentence nonetheless: "I'm not used to getting hurt. That's all."

He snorted. "Really."

"Yes, really," you retorted. You had the urge to give him another look, but didn't dare move your head. You wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. "I'm a sniper. Things like this don't really happen to me."

"That's hard to believe."

"Why?"

"After the stunt you pulled tonight, I mean, of course it would be unfathomable that you don't get injured often," he explained, his words filled with both worry and anger. You had already learned by now that he was upset with you for putting yourself in danger like that. You knew he would be. "You're reckless."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah. I've heard that one before."

"Seriously," Kilgore persisted. "You are. You need to chill out."

"'Chill out...'" you mocked his voice. "What is that, some sort of cool kid language I don't know about?"

"Cool kid language..." he laughed. Your solar plexus grew warm at the sound, and made you recall earlier that night with Ghost when you had heard him laugh for the first time — but this isn't the first time you've ever heard König laugh, it's just the first time you've heard him laugh after so many years. "Don't be ridiculous."