A Living Shield (John Price x OC/Reader slowburn)

37) That Which the Rain Washed Away

[Song 🎵: Little Monster - Royal Blood 🔂]

Frustration, irritation, anger.

It all ate at him while he wanted to shout down comms, but the radio silence that came through harder than usual confirmed what your captain had suspected.

'R you bloody shittin' me, hellspawn turned her comms off!

The vision of your middlefinger burned into Price's retinas, fueled him in a way he didn't often respond in. He was never quick to anger. Quick to frustrate, absolutely. But fury was usually not easily drawn out from him. That was before you ofcourse came into the picture. Price cursed profanities at himself, his hand rubbing over his closed, rain covered eyes. How one woman could draw the blood straight from underneath his nails was beyond him. But you did it with ease every time.

Know what your real talent is, sergeant? Makin' me look years older than I am. Can't fuckin' believe this-

It made him even angrier knowing why you'd done it. And how he had to admit that his anger was misplaced because you were in your right to be pissed off and he knew. It made him feel ashamed if anything. You deserved an answer. Yet there was none good enough to give that would appease you, he knew that more than anything. Whatever he could tell you, it wouldn't be enough. If he had an explanation that was worthy of sharing, he would've already done so. But for now, he had to figure stuff out on his own. There was so much at stake he couldn't burden you with. Not without risking your job or your place in his team.

Something he would protect at any cost.

Because believe it or not, he really wanted to clear the air. To solve the weird feeling stuck between you, but right now he had no option to do so and it had resulted in him drastically withdrawing. The anxious concern that'd filled his chest, which was currently pressed against the cold, soaked ground, had shook him out of it. Because above all, watching you put yourself in harms way to gain an answer from him, that was the last thing he'd wanted.

But as usual when it came to you, nothing ever went quite the way Price expected. Ever since he got to know you, every situation that involved your presence either ended up in a way he couldn't predict or ended with him acting differently than he normally would. You made him behave more out of character, made his mind lose focus more often. He wasn't sure whether he hated it or couldn't get enough of it. Though the answer surely lay somewhere in between.

Opening his eyes he did his best to compose himself, pushing a big, heavy sigh from his lungs before placing his face in front of the rifle again. His eye peering down, searching for any movement of you. Whether you'd pissed him off or not, your safety still demanded all attention. Not a fibre in his body protested against that or felt less inclined to watch over you, just because you'd argued with him.

Come on, rear your jarrin' little head. I know you want me to find you.

Comms stayed eerily dead. Back to a simmering silence, comparable to the one he'd ushered in when you started this mission. The difference being that this time Price wasn't eager on it, considering he had no eyes on you. And you allowed him no control over it either, shutting him out completely.

Before this he truly hadn't wanted to initiate conversation. Trying his best to keep a somewhat safer distance from you in the hopes that you'd reciprocate the silence, and eventually move on from whatever transpired between you.

Did it make him a coward? Potentially.

But he also knew this wasn't something either of you had expected to do anything with. Maybe you weren't aware of it, but Price had come to learn of some of your old habits. Of the fact that you were never really an innocent girl and you'd taken many partners, but also kicked every single man to the curb without fail.