Quiet Hate

Avoidance

When I finally make it back to my house, I hurry inside and lean against the door, breathing heavily.

That didn't just happen, I tell myself. I had a weird daydream, that's all.

As I stand there, I can't stop feeling the pressure of König's body against mine. His hips pressed against my stomach. I can't stop hearing the pure lust of his tone. I can't stop smelling his masculine, spicy scent.

I can't stop seeing his face every time I close my eyes.

I shake my head a bunch, desperate to make these thoughts stop. I race up the stares and throw myself into the shower. I scrub any and all proof of what happened earlier off of me. He never touched me. He never did.

The night passes slowly, agonizingly. I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, remembering every second of earlier.

König is beautiful. There's no avoiding that fact. I remember his dark, messy hair, the stubble on his jaw, the lushness of his lips, the darkness of his eyes, pupils blown wide.

He showed me his face, which I know is a big fucking deal, and I ran out on him.

The night passes, somehow. I roll out of bed for work, trying not to notice that I feel a little bit more self-conscious in my appearance today. I press my lip balm into my lips harder than necessary.

The truth is, I'm nervous. I don't really want to see König. I want to pretend the other night never happened. I mean, we have so much to do anyways. Plus, he's an asshole. It wouldn't work.

Deep down, I can't help but want it to.

As I sit at my desk, I feel König walk in. His commanding presence, a brief good morning from whoever's near the door.

Whatever hatred we had before, it's amplified. I avoid looking at the hallway next to the locker room. When we have a mission planning meeting, I pretend he's not there. I sense his angry eyes, scowling at me, and when I briefly spare a glance at him, I see that he is doing exactly what I thought.

Simon notices the change in my behavior. He definitely notices when we practice at night. But with the upcoming mission following this one, our sessions are wearing down - he'll need to focus. Catching up with me as I leave the following week, he grabs my arm.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asks, concerned etched onto the little bit I can see of his face.

"Yeah, sorry," I say, frazzled. "I just... can't stop thinking about what's coming up."

"Well, we can," he says, meaning the 141. "If we aren't worried, you shouldn't be, either."

I muster up a smile. "Yeah, I guess," I say.

"Listen, wanna come hang out with everyone this weekend?" Simon asks. "At Soap's? He's throwing a party, and I figured you could use some distraction."

I nod. "Sure."

The rest of the week passes more easily with completely König-free plans coming up. Friday night, I head over to Soap's. The party's already begun when I make it inside.

There's a ton of people here, and from what I see, a bit of fraternization, already. Simon finds me somehow as I make my way deeper into the kitchen.

"Hey," he says over the music, "We're this way."

Grabbing my hand, he leads me through the crowd, to the couch.

Everyone from the team is there, meaning I stiffen when I realize who is sitting in the chair in the corner.

König. I can't believe he's here - this is something he would usually go out of his way to avoid.

I don't miss how his eyes fall on Simon and I's connected hands, but Simon does. He easily spins me onto the couch next to him, and I laugh.