killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 8 •

Getting crushed between two men in the backseat in such a heatwave wasn't exactly how she imagined her first days in Mexico would be going.

Trying her best to avoid the awkward situation, she submerged in her thoughts, remembering how great it was inside the helicopter they came with.

Rora seated herself opposite of Soap and Ghost, the two of them talking about something - more like, the Sergeant talked, the Lieutenant listened. Occasionally, Ghost inserted one or two words here and there, keeping the mostly one-sided conversation alive, but as she looked at the duo, she could see that they were close. They probably knew each other for more longer than they knew her, and she couldn't even be mad at them for not including her in their activity.

Occupying herself, she pulled her lighter out from her pocket, flipping it between her fingers. Her thumb grazed over the smooth metal surface, her finger following the print of the carving. It was an old lighter, one of the first things she ever stole. This lighter has seen a lot of things.

It was there when she lit her first cigarette. It was there when Everett had to burn some evidence after their robbery, trying to cover their tracks. And it was there when she decided that, even though she quit smoking a long time ago, she lit her last cigarette after his funeral.

„You good, Wellsy?" the sweet lowness of MacTavish's voice brought her out of her thoughts. She snapped her gaze up from her lighter, it instantly connecting with Ghost's. His eyes didn't leave hers as she snapped her lighter back, extinguishing the fire.

„Just peachy," she sang, a smirk coming to her lips as she leaned her back against the wall. Mirroring their poses, she pulled her rifle between her slightly spread legs, barrel facing the floor, her eyes flicking to Soap's before they met with a brown pair again.

The way Ghost had let his head fall back against the metal wall, still holding eye contact, she couldn't help but find this little motion attractive. Sure, he was still one of her worst nightmares, sitting right in front of her, but right now, he didn't look anywhere close to Everett.

But that only lasted for so long, because her thoughts were already going back to the love of her life, and how he pulled her into his lap, that skull-printed bandana hiding his smile, but the smile reaching his eyes instead.

A slightly annoyed sigh left her lips as she tried to pull herself smaller, her legs either touching Soap's or Ghost's. After a few minutes, she got tired of altering her body in ways it wasn't supposed to sit, so she just mirrored their man spread, forcing their legs to close up a little, leaving a little more space for her.

Soap was far more interested in the sights to notice her action, but it didn't go past Ghost. He watched as her thigh was pressing against him, trying his best to scoot over, his entire body pressing against the door of the car, but seeing how limited their space was, he tried to accept the physical contrast.

It was much harder than it looked, so he just tried to ignore her and look out the window.

Upon hearing her sigh, Alejandro turned his head to the side, giving them a look over his shoulder.

„Cozy in there?"

„Really bringing those family vacations back," Rora forced a smile on her face, Alejandro chuckling at her response. As soon as he turned back, her smile fell, her eyes staring dead ahead.

Speaking of family, she glanced towards Soap, wondering if he had any family waiting for him outside all of this. But remembering the way he acted outside of the warzone, just chatting away or joking, she just couldn't imagine him settling next to a woman, or starting a family. To her, he gave off middle-child energies with ADHD.