Red Is The Color Of Our Lives (And Red Is The Color Of Our Blood)

Rapid

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rap·id
/ˈrapəd/
adjective
happening in a short time or at a fast pace.
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The blinding lights that seemed like the heavens gates opened up and beamed down onto your eye, utterly filling it with blurred circles and twos of everything.

A snarl erupted from your lips at the blurred faces above you as you lunged upward with an impeccable view of the adrenaline swimming through you to fight at whoever was blurred in your vision until a harsh grip held your shoulders and utterly pinned you still back down against the beds groaning metal frame and mattress that seemed to drowning you.

Everything burned.

Everything rang.

Everything was buzzing.

You were..
Alive.

Your focus then snapped back into reality, almost like a whiplash, and then everything went...quiet. So utterly quiet...the calm before a storm it seemed.
And then you saw a pair of blue eyes boring down into your own.

"Simon?"

After catching you up to speed, you found yourself now rushes to recovery. Two days, you had been out.. two whole days from the trauma your head had experienced. Stitches still freshened and face still swollen and bruised thrusted into the briefing...

And everyone stared at your knurled face and jagged scar on your left side that was coveted with bandages and a patch for the time being.. and it made you utterly want to hurl as the bile feeling rose in your stomach, especially when those damn green eyes bore right through you the entire time.

You could just feel the glare of them drilling holes into your head as you tried to focus on Price...

And then... time seems to fly...
12 hours they said...to stabilize you..
To ensure you'd live for another day.

And you did.
A month later...
And you found yourself like a wild animal, standing next to the giant man..

König.

This time in a closed airplane... thankfully, that helped soothe the nerves you've had.

Then Prices voice rang out.

"Alrighty boys, remember.. in and out."

And then you seemed to feel your gaze hard as your feet struck the battle ground.
The dirt acting like a ticking time bomb as your face gritted into a harsh set jaw...

And you found yourself parked behind Ghost as his flank, before you broke off at your designated spot and hid in a one in and one way out.. and layed on your stomach through the roofed space between the sharpnel... and you  felt your body practically welding the gun in its hands... like it was an extension of your body.

Thankfully, you weren't blinded in that attack..just..made..something ugly.

And every time a bullet flew from your chamber..

It struck its mark. And every time someone attempted to spot you or your hiding spot.. they went down.

And once it was time to move... you went... and succumbing to the decimation of  yourself to autopilot.

Finding your way back to the group you were to be with for this plan to work..

And you felt your hands become more and more slickened with blood as you gripped your knife and quietly took down everyone who stood with their body in front of you..
Even as a sniper. You had to get dirty.

By the time the part of your mission was over, you all were hauling utter ass to the chopper.

Now all you had to do was to not get shot...

Right.
Easy.

Your legs thundered against the dirt, your boots snapping off the ground Like an ill rhythm. Where everyone makes up for height. You make up for speed.

You had found yourself chasting, speeding past everyone and making it onto the chopper first before helping Gaz up and getting slammedt by Soap with an "oof."..Ghost followed..and so did price.

Before KorTac had caughr up...found themselves into the chopper before Price smacked the side of it and off, you went.  

Now, you  just caught your breath. And that's when you realized the choking smell of the metallic taste the blood had on you.. and you realized you were covered in it.

Shuddering against the sticky texture of it drying, you could only grapple with shallow breaths until you were safe off the area of fire.
Off to the next sight to blow...

It had been weeks since you've seen home base.. home.

It's funny how you've been able to even call it that.

After taking out  cartel infestation for a short while to relieve the fighters there from life-

And all the while KorTacs giant...always behind you..or staring at you.. stalking you.

Today... you had found yourself in the kitchen.. freshly showered and in need of a caffeine kick or two with the pile of untouched weeks of paperwork to get done tonight.

And your face grimaced with a small smile as you now held two 20-oz redbulls in the crook of your arm and an empty cup. Which would be for your coffee

Suddenly, as you went to turn, your face whammed almost into Königs chest..

Letting out a startled noise you back up against the counter, almost dropping the pile of your paper work in you one arm and the two redbulls and cup in the other as you had stupidly decides to stop at the cafeteria before dropping the hulking pile in your room to fill out at your desk.

"JESUS FUCK-dammit! Do you always gotta be fucking that quiet?!"

You snap at the man..
Only to realize who you had just yelled at; you can see it. The ways his fingers figured into tight balls and body Fram tensing

"Force of Habit,Sorry"

'Force of Habit, Sorry'

Slowly nodding with a quirked brow you now struggled to hold the pile of paper that was now wobbling In your arms grip due to its shear size.. and as if König had caught on to what his accidental spooking had done he, without hesitation grabbed the pile of paper.

"Oh...ummm...thank..you?'

With that one simple word, he seemed to stop his motion and stare at you..
And then his eyes seemed to gleam.

"Hm...anytime.."

And then you slowly nodded

And then he nodded slowly before speaking again....

"See you around...Sparrow. Also, zont forget to klean zur wounds ja? Vouldn't vant your pretty face to appear all scared yes?"

That motherfucker-