Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter One Hundred | Third World

[ 100 ]

When Niklas eventually awakened, he was warmly greeted by the sight of his head resting comfortably on Hansel's lap. For a moment or two, he deliberated closing his eyes and feigning sleep so he wouldn't have to move. But it was only after deciding to do the opposite, did he realise he was physically unable to move.

A cold sweat ran down his spine upon realisation. That's when he felt a gentle dusting of fingertips on the side of his face. Tilting his head back, he looked up to see Hansel watching him with a faint smile on his lips.

The backdrop of billowing willow created a serene image. A setting which was a complete juxtaposition of their real world. It made the thought of returning, almost unbearable for anyone who got to experience it. But at that moment, it wasn't just the fantastical space which drew the Commander in, heart and soul. His dark eyes seemed to be swallowed up by the hazel eyes, which appeared even greener at that moment.

"You exhausted yourself, even though Roscoe and I warned you to be careful." There was a slight chastising tone to his voice, but nothing which conveyed any real irritation. After Hansel spoke, the sound of the whooshing wind cutting through the surrounding long grass, was similar to the sound of waves crashing on the beach. Another sensation that stubbed at any lingering stresses.

"So what's my diagnosis, doc?"

"You have a condition I doubt can ever be cured," Hansel revealed with a blank expression, "infuriating stubbornness."

Niklas scoffed lightly, refusing to remove his gaze from the handsome face above him. "I'm afraid that's hereditary."

"Mm, I don't doubt that. You're in better shape than when I first brought you here, but you over-exerted yourself and your muscles are punishing you for it."

"Can't say I can complain much, right now." The soldier surprised the both of them by revealing. And in response, Hansel couldn't fight the grin that was trying to form on his face. But his ears were burning brashly.

"Lose the ability to move and suddenly you have a smart mouth."

"I've always had a smart mouth, you just happily branded me an idiot who likes to bark orders."

Hansel raised a brow, "Do you not?"

"Perhaps when barking them at you, and on the off chance that you actually adhere to them, then yes I enjoy the perks of the job."

"Ah, so as much as you claim I've branded you as an idiot, you have in fact branded me as someone who doesn't do as they're told."

Niklas shrugged his shoulders, "Pretty much; but I can't say it hasn't been refreshing. You dragged me out of my bubble of self-pity and distrust for everyone."

Both had always taken note of the transparency between them. It's what made their team work so effective. For apparent strangers, they gelled together easily. There was no restrictions when it came to talking to one another, which is why it looked— to some— like they were like oil and water. While it was people like Roscoe, who had spotted the signs very early on, who shook his head and let the two of them get on with it.

"It's what we do, isn't it? Drag each other along in order to survive. Though I can't say most of it was intentional in the beginning, I can now say that I can't imagine surviving this world without a Commander like yourself, calling the shots." Hansel spoke truthfully while gently threading a few ends of Niklas's hair through his fingers. It was more something he did unconsciously, but the gentle touch was like that of a soothing massage to the soldier whose mind was reeling.