Settled Heart {Gaz X Reader}

°' Chapter 15 '°

It's not surprising if one night you sleep soundly and the next- plagued with infectious thoughts that keep you wide awake.

And you've had your fair share of a much desired nap being ruined by waking up drenched in sweat with the gut feeling of heightening fear and loss. So you knew what it was like, needing some sort of rock to ground yourself on, to stay afloat - for a desperate grasp for any kind of closure. Usually you'd end up clouding up your head with real memories, - whether it was good or bad ones, forcing the ones your mind makes up to the deepest depths of your sense of reality, not having much other options. A part of you knew how he felt, so you could really sympathise, you didn't cause it, but it did not stop the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.

His mind seemed to be wandering again, and that isn't the place you want to be left alone with. "Are you alright?.."

You could see him clearer being in a much closer proximity, his hands now balled into fists and you could tell depletion had dug its brutal claws in, rimming under his eyes.

"Yeah." After a few moments he replied, a wave of sudden relief washing over you upon realizing you had not, in fact, crossed a line. "It's just-" He sighed, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine.

You could sense his hesitating on telling you about the topic.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, you know." You decided to drop the subject seeing how visibly unsure he was, his eyes falling to the ground.

He had found you fascinating, you never tried to push an answer from him, rare in this line of work, something that should be savoured. You could just seem to understand sometimes there wasn't any right answer to give, sometimes needing a cover of silence to be stringing along instead; space to breathe without getting suffocated- But maybe what he really wanted was for him to find himself wrapping his arms around you, for you to fucking hug him back. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze, hold you like he cared about you. Maybe he wanted to be suffocated by attention, by you.

He knows it's probably wrong, but it is strangely pleasant that someone should see past the anger and ire into his quieter, rarer emotions- the ones he doesn't put on as a mask infront of the walls he had put up to keep himself- and others safe.

Even if he yearns for you, he knows beggars can't be choosers. He'll take what he can get, if it is only lightweight touches and meaningless hugs. Even if just being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.

...Even if the feeling was mutual?

You can feel the tension loosen from his body, draining from his fatigued muscles when your arm levels itself on his knee as he forcibly drags his steady gaze from the ground to look at you.

His eyes. Obsidian orbs with a soul that was relentlessly crushed into a fragment of war and pain, but he pushed through, hiding behind a humorous double-sided face till it scarred over and was apart of him.

That is, until he got put on leave and finally could act like everyone else. To the best of his ability. Adapting back to civilian life was difficult when you put your whole life on hold and put it out there- risk it, just to return and act like nothing happened during the excruciating months he was sent away for- just for the sake of others and the only one who can recognise your quickly deteriorating state is, well, you.

So long as you're not physically in a casket, they don't care.

He's tired of hearing excuses for people. Tired of feeling like only a few are doing the actual work for everyone.