Revolution, Spec ops guy fanfiction

Bitter sweet coffee

The sun peeked inside the curtains, creeping across the walls like dew down a leaf a spring morning. I groaned when it finally reached my face, leaving a greenhouse warmth inside the blanket wrapped around my body. Finally well rested, more rested then id been in weeks, i sat up. With a hunched back supported against the headboard. Hesitant, i moved the white blanket off the rest of my body. I hissed for myself as i saw the clear evidence of green and blue smattered like paint across certain spots. I with care slid my fingers across it, remembering the feeling of rubber bullets drilling into my skin. i shook off the thought and let my hand travel up my thigh. There was other marks, red and shaped like a garlic clove. I smiled and tried to hold back the shiver. The nights more pleasant activities started playing over in my head. Hands against wet tile, his hands gripping my hips. Head leaned backwards, stars moving around my vision. How riot did not only give me the best orgasm in my life, but also cared for my wounds, handed me painkillers and let me sleep with a kiss on top of my forehead. The feel of lips burned on my head and i bit my lip at the thought of seeing him again. And tank.

My stomach immediately dropped at his name. His scolding was not a pleasant memory. I decided to not think about it more, not really longing for the weight of anxiety in the depth of my stomach. I threw my legs across the side of the bed, dangling my feet for a second before placing them on the ground. With some hestiance i got up, realizing that the pain had gotten better. Well not better, but easier to handle. I ignored my head begging me to go back to sleep as i started limping down the stairs. I was met with an inviting smell. Coffee.

The previous anxiety was long gone as i tried not to squeal in the happiness. I loved coffee. "Is it okay if i take a cup?", i asked as i took the final step into the kitchen.The man in front of me was not Riot. He had a pale complexion but there was a tint of something else then white. His hair was short, a brown newly woken up mess on top of his head. His figure was giant, stretching up next to the cupboard. There was only so many tall men in this house. Tank, i supposed, jumped at my voice. He looked in my directions, the earlier droopy sleepy eyes turned into green orbs of anger? He really hated me.

"Sorry", i mumbled, fiddleting nervously with the long black t-shirt riot had given me the day before "i didn't mean to startle you".

He made a motion i could really only place as rolling his eyes. "yeah take a cup, you're our guest after all", there was venom in his words, spit out against me making my heartburn. Burning in rage, i wasn't really known for my self control. "Hey", i pointed a finger at him like he had the previous day "i don't know why you hate me, i have not done anything to you". He looked shocked at my outburst before quickly collecting himself. "I don't hate you", he didn't even look at me "i just don't understand why you have to be here. The fact that you suck at protesting, is not our responsibility". His eyes turned away from me finally got to me. I grasped his wrist, hard, and pulled him so he was facing me. He looked down at our skin contact with an unplaceable emotion mirroying behind his light eyes. His skin was hot against me. For some reason he was so inhuman in my eyes i didn't expect body warmth. "I wanted to make a change!", i snapped, still not dropping his hand "okay! I felt useless just signing petitions and rolling my thumbs, i wanted to make a change". His face softened into a expression rather pleasant on his face. Now, with his full attention on me i actually had time to get a good look at him. He was handsome, freckles spread across his nose, full lips a straight line. His jaw was tensed as he watched me search him. "That's why me and Riot protest, we know what we're doing. That's why people like you stay at home", his words were hard but his voice was a different tone. Humorous. He dropped my hand and the sudden forced activity in my shoulder made me hiss in pain. He looked me up and down, eyes staying a bit longer on the bruises on my legs. He opened his full lips half way, something passing by his mouth. For a second i thought he was going to add something but instead he pursed his lips together and turned his back against me. That was the end of our short conversation i supposed. Like walking over glass i sneaked to one of the cupboards, lifting down a cup and moving back to the coffee machine.