Don't fear the reaper - Captain John Price

LII

The morning sun filled the house with its warmth, trying to reach the darkest corner. Tall green grass was hiding the trees, as the birds were singing their song in the early hour of the morning. A soft wind was moving the trees from one side to another, as nature was waking up. The peaks of the tall green trees were kissing the bright blue sky of Herefordshire. There was nothing surrounding the house except for the silence and the green trees in the middle of nowhere.

The sun woke up the captain first. Years of habits of being an early bird were waking up John earlier than everyone else. The golden rays of the sun were playing with the hair of the captain, as the light beams were dancing over his face. For the first time after a while, muscles on his face were relaxed, as another Price's enemy met his own fate six feet deeper under the ground. He quietly left the warm and comfortable trap of the bed, giving a brunette a moment to enjoy her morning sleep.

John needed a break. Year after year the captain was running his marathon, jumping from one mission to another, having almost no time to process what was happening around him and how fast the world was changing. The kettle on the stove screamed letting the man know that the boiling water reached the perfect temperature for his morning tea. The little house in the middle of nowhere seemed like a perfect escape for Price while Amelia's wounds were still noticeable on her body and were taking time to heal. The hot water filled the cup with a lonely bag of black tea, as John was taking his time to enjoy the normality of everyday life. His deep blue eyes were walking along the bookshelf until the book on military tactics caught his attention. The old armchair was squeaky under the weight of the captain, as his gaze was running along the long lines.

A brunette was hiding from the bright sun under the covers, trying to catch the last moments of sleep that were fading away with each passing moment. The bed kept her in its warm arms when Amelia finally gave up on sleeping any longer. The bruises on her body were slowly fading, the cuts were healing while nature was waking up as the days were getting closer to spring. Brown eyes looked over the small bedroom, to notice the emptiness in the place where Price's body was resting last night. A soft yawn escaped out of Knight's sleepy mind, as she left the warmth of the bed and escaped into the living room full of the aroma of the freshly brewed tea.

"How's the book?" A woman let herself sit on the edge of the arm of an armchair where the captain was spending his morning. A sleepy smile stayed on her face when the two oceans of blue met with the shores of brown.

"Didn't know you were awake already, love," John closed the book, leaving the bookmark on the page where he stopped. The hardcover landed on the cold surface of the coffee table, as the man let a brunette sit on his lap. His strong hands were traveling along Knight's back, as the captain wasn't breaking eye contact between them. "Hungry for breakfast or a cup of something warm?"

"Maybe a tea, let me think about the breakfast, captain," Amelia let her hand run through the short, yet messy hair of the man. In a blink of an eye, a man caught her in his arms as his lips were leaving the soft kisses on her porcelain cheeks.

The soft laughter of an officer traveled through a small house that the two of them could call a safe space in the middle of nowhere. John caught himself keeping a woman in her arms for way longer than it usually was, as the tip of his nose touched the soft skin of her neck. Something shifted in the air ever since the two walked out of the Shadow Company's base. It was too hard to deny, yet so easy to express.

"Anything on Makarov?" Eventually, Amelia escaped the hands of the captain which were full of warmth and protection as her bare feet stood on the cold hardwood floor.

"Nothing yet," John let the cup sit in his hands. The tea was dark as the night was no longer warm, but still gave its taste to the man on the early morning the last chilly days of the winter. It felt as if the captain didn't want to speak on the matter anymore, as his legs were taking him further into the kitchen away from the conversation.