"Absolutely Not."

Chapter 17: Aim

It shouldn't have happened, that kiss.

It captivated every thought as the ghost of his lips pressed against mine still distracted every move I made.

I lost my appetite mid-meals as my stomach would start doing flips.

Sleeping distracted me only a little until those worrisome nights when dark memories kept me awake, and I wished for only warmth amid cold nostalgia.

Briefly, I envisioned a pair of arms pulling me in from the back, sternum to spine, to help us both sleep.

Comforting lips caressing my neck...

Aim, squeeze, miss.

Fuck.

Aim, squeeze, barely nicked the head's outline.

Double fuck.

Not only had I not been accustomed to any gun's familiar recoil for some time, but rust had grown on all of my skills. Running, shooting, sparring. I was not the same soldier I had been before, and I was nervous about how long it would take until I'd be considered ready for any kind of mission.

Maybe I shouldn't take it for granted as I didn't feel exactly ready to brace against the inevitable face of war once more.

Aim.

Or Graves. Eventually, that would be a thing, right?

I closed one eye.

I'd offered myself for Price to use me as bait, and my mind hadn't changed.

Shifted my footing, relaxed my shoulders.

No one was going to stop me if the Captain put the idea into motion.

Pop!

Fuck yeah.

Right in the forehead.

I'd figured the muscle memory wouldn't be too difficult to retrain – kind of like riding a bike – and my lips couldn't help but smirk with soft pride.

I had half a mind to urge my head to twist around and bark at the lieutenant whose eyes hadn't left the back of my head, burrowing holes right into my skull. Could he mind his own for a day? A day! That was all I asked to have to myself without him encapsulating every thought.

Shivering away his stare, I imagined the paper silhouette to be of Graves and shot five rounds into him.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

I breathed in through my nose.

Simultaneously, I squeezed the trigger and exhaled.

Pop!

All of them impaled the thin material between the lines, and I snickered to myself. I apparently just needed to imagine Graves' scared, wide-eyed expression as I pulled the trigger.

Smoothly, this part I hadn't forgotten, I ejected the empty clip, checked for surviving bullets, and slid in the full magazine before cocking back the chamber.

Unsure of how long we'd both been sharing this space, visualizing him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, I knew I didn't have much more time left before I needed to turn and leave the room.

I had only one magazine left that I wanted to practice with, and it was already loaded.

Heart racing in my throat, I slowly raised my arms and aimed once more. Breathing in the moment instead of losing myself in the future, I steadied my heart rate and curled my index around the trigger.

I'd never been the best at dancing, but the waltz of avoidance had become my specialty, my forte. After that fateful meeting and then after our kiss that left me conscience-stricken with rosy-tinted cheeks, I was nothing but steering clear of what I truly wanted.

Him.

It'd always been him, but there was that impenetrable wall that slammed right in between my head and heart, separating the two so I could keep boundaries. However, he was making it impossible to not start climbing said wall to get to him as it was impenetrable, not unclimbable.

Frustrated, in more than one way, I huffed away a stray strand of hair away from my face as I closed my eye once more.

I just wasn't expecting - nor did I even fucking hear the footsteps - hard muscles to press against my unsuspecting back or his sturdy hands to confidently slide down my straightened arm. My breath wedged itself within my lungs, making my shoulders tense up as his palm cupped the backside of my hand, his fingers around mine.

There was that warmth that I wanted so desperately.

"Relax your shoulders, love," he muttered, gently nudging a shoulder with his free hand.

This is why I'd been avoiding him.

This right here.

The flame had been rekindled and if he kept doing things like this to me, it was just going to be a repeat of Manchester. Would I really mind that much, though...

His posture shifted to where his hips pressed against mine, gently pinning me against the bench's edge.

No, I wouldn't mind.

But.

I didn't appreciate how he made the reddening of my cheeks so hot, I felt it reach my lips. Both pairs.

"You've been avoiding me again," his breath tickled against my ear as he adjusted my aim for me.

Luckily, we were antisocial individuals, finding solace in shooting ranges instead of sharing meals with everyone else, so not a soul would witness a respected lieutenant fraternizing with the ex-Shadow.

It felt like he was making me pay for lost time now, knowing that I had been so willing to kiss him that I would be open to more contact in ways that would allow him to see me blush again.

Conflicted was an understatement.

I stayed quiet, not squeezing the trigger yet, but he filled the silence for us. "You left me high and dry in the gym the other night. Kissed me back and left without another word about it." My pelvis dug into the edge as he pressed more into me, his fingers tightening as he did so.

Finally finding the ability to breathe, albeit it came out shallow and embarrassingly revealed my arousal, I didn't lower my arms nor did I twist out of his grip.

"Gho-"

"Simon."

I groaned softly when his lips intentionally brushed against my earlobe. "You gonna shoot, love?" He whispered. Chuckling softly, he made my flustered state worse by saying, "Good thing you're not in a sniper's position, yeah?"

Teeth buried themselves into my lower lip at the thought. "You make my blood boil," I admitted lowly, pretending I was upset.

"And yet you're not running away."

I squeezed the trigger.

A hole right where the heart would be showed for how he helped my aim.

"I guess not," I whispered back.