~MOUSE~
Three weeks.
Three.
Fucking.
Weeks.
Apparently, that's how long two people who shamelessly fucked each other could go without talking.
She had never been as furious as she was.
She was used to the feeling of waking up alone, but for some reason when he did it, it felt like a betrayal.
And what she hated even more was that it hurt.
Nothing was supposed to hurt her, and here she was.
The warmth that had enveloped her the night before had dissipated like a morning mist, leaving behind a cold reality.
She was sorer than she had ever been in her life and had a pounding headache with pure embarrassment searing through her blood.
His absence in the room that morning told her everything she needed to know.
He regretted it.
Which only doubled her embarrassment when she woke up in her own bed in a completely empty room.
Of course, he regretted it.
He was nine years older.
Her superior.
And he hated vulnerability.
She had learnt that pretty fast.
The morning had gone downhill from there.
After she showered and dressed to cover the bruises he'd left on her body she'd greeted the rest of the team in the mess hall.
All equally hungover and miserable.
That paired with their Colonel's shitty attitude as he made everyone who went to the bar run laps around the base as he refused to look her in the eye.
She guessed they were forgetting it happened.
She needed to get over it.
She was used to it.
She kept telling herself she knew it would happen.
It was all she was really good for.
She was just a pillar of flesh she'd turned into a weapon.
Sometimes she forgot that.
The shared room that had once begun to feel safe now felt like a battleground.
He wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't look at her and if he could help it, tried not to be in the room with her at all.
Ophelia, unable to bear the deafening silence within the four walls, retreated back to the couch.
Yeah, it was petty, but she didn't give a fuck.
At least on the couch, she could sleep.
He didn't message her. She didn't message him.
She did however message Amara.
The 141 was in Las Almas and apparently, she was having a hard time with Ghost.
She called him 'insufferable' 'terrifying' and 'white boy'.
Ophelia was pretty sure that meant she had the hots for him.
YOU ARE READING
The Mouse and The Monarch
Fanfiction~She embodied the essence of his world, a captivating masterpiece sculpted with the strokes of both his fervent passion and haunting despair~ Ophelia Moreau. Otherwise known as Mouse. A French Sergeant turned KorTac Operative who has major temper i...
