A Trail of Smoke and Smugglers (Santi/PopexReader)

The Devil Himself

So that I could see his expressions towards me.

Smug bastard.

His hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles straining and turning white. "Because, we traveled here under the guise of power-line consultants. Normally, they don't carry .50 caliber rounds along with their sniper rifle." He scoffed as if he was trying to explain quantum mechanics to an adolescent.

"I wasn't talking to you, mother." I gritted the name, opposite of Tom's previous term of endearment from me, hoping that he'd pick up on my cues of swiftly exiting the conversation that had nothing to do with him. I fought the temptation to ram my foot into the backing of his seat, but realized that my brother would be true to his word and actually have Santi take me back to the airport.

Fish coughed to disperse the tension in the car and patted my knee softly, calming my erratic breaths of frustration. "Why don't we all chill out, okay? (Y/N) hasn't gotten much sleep while we've been traveling the past few days, while you bastards have gotten plenty. She's been reading and re-reading the folder for the recon, so cut her some slack, Pope. You too, Ben. Knock it off."

Fish was telling the truth. From the several plane rides, to the drop-off points, and even the car ride now, I hadn't slept at all. But it wasn't just because I was reading through the folder.

Firstly, I couldn't go to sleep around people in general. I trusted the guys with my life, but my once easily obtainable trust was broken by others.

Secondly, this recon was too familiar for my liking. The situation was nearly identical to a mission that I had embarked on a few years ago. It was a dramatic failure and everyday I was reminded by the scars of it, both mentally and physically.

I was stressfully determined to not have a repeat of the severely failed mission and to get everyone out of the recce safely.

An option that hadn't been given to me.

"Sorry." Ben muttered from behind me, carefully massaging my shoulder in an apology. I nodded in response and rested my back against the seat again, confident that he was finished with being an annoying little shit.

Santi craned his neck and glanced into the mirror. My eyes met his for a moment, surprised at the kindness in his reflection. With a raising of his eyebrow in sympathy, he quietly apologized, breathing out a shallow, "I'm sorry too."

I gave him no acknowledgement and once more turned to watch the passing view from Fish's window. Beautiful greenery and unbelievable mountains hovered on the horizon, completely different than from much of the world that I had seen before.

The rest of the ride was silent as everyone drifted to sleep. Everyone except Pope and myself.

"We still have a little bit to go. You should get some rest, hm?" He suggested, never taking his eyes from the road. He glanced out his window and back to the front windshield, also appreciating the scenery as it passed.

"Focus on the road, Pope." I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes at hearing the combined snores of every other male in the car. They were fortunate that I wasn't driving, because we we wouldn't have gotten this far if I was forced to hear them literally cutting logs in the seats surrounding me.

Santi raised his eyebrows and craned his neck, attempting to crack or loosen a stiffened joint. "Just trying to help, (Y/N)." He plainly stated, raising his shoulder to loosen the tension he had gained while driving for hours.

"That's what I don't understand about you, Santi. I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster with you." Now that the guys were sleeping, I had more confidence to address Santi as he drove. Plus, we weren't face-to-face, which is something that I wasn't sure that I could successfully converse through while engaged in. "All this pushing and pulling is giving me vertigo."