Predator (DWT x OC)

96

"You can not fight like this." I tell one soldier, lying on a stretcher in the medical wing that's been set up outside the mines. He's young, probably my age, even if I feel a thousand years older, a mop of curly brown hair that's plastered to his forehead with sweat. A mining accident left his leg twisted and maimed, something to do with a collapsed support pillar. 

"No- no you don't understand."

"You're not fighting, you'll be lucky if you can even walk again."

"I can't go back, I can't-"

"It's going to be okay." I smooth the straggles of hair off his creased face, using a cloth to wipe away the remaining dirt that coats every part of his skin like a film. "You can rest, you don't have to go to war."

"There's nothing else for me." He whispers, echoing the words I have heard out of most of the soldiers mouths. I don't want to know what Dream has done to create this army, the amount of damage he wreaked on innocent villages to force this level of desperation. 

It's been years in the making, before me, before Schlatt, before L'manburg. He's always been like this. Been evil. 

"There's nothing for you here." I tell him gently, kindly. "There is a whole world out there."

"I need to- I need to fight." He can barely lift himself up, gasping at the effort before collapsing back down onto the canvas. 

"I'm sorry." 

I have to leave him in his bed, bringing my cloth and bucket of water to one of the sinks. The war hasn't even begun, and there's still beds full here, accidents and fights and the occasional streak of pure, insane desperation, an arrow in the shoulder, an axe in the foot, a boy begging to go home. 

The main companies of soldiers have been moved into position, teetering on the edge of L'manburg territory, but there's still a lot left behind, impatient, angry, fingers itching on their triggers. 

A familiar presence sidles up to me at the sinks, his strong hands brushing against mine under the warm water. I turn to Punz, leaning into him, just slightly. 

We've both been playing a dangerous, stupid game, one only lovers can. Every little bit of logic screams at us to stay away, to keep our distance and not take that risk, but we can't. I missed him too much and then the thought of having to give it up again became unbearable. 

"Dream's away until tonight." Punz says, a twinkle in his eye. 

"And his spies are everywhere." I emphasise, glancing around behind us, but no one seems to notice us. I'm not that stupid though, and I nudge him out of my way with my hip, wringing out my cloth. 

He follows me to the storeroom, where I ask him to grab something from the top shelf, and then slam the door shut behind the both of us. 

I barely turn around when he descends on me, seizing my face and joining his lips to mine in a searing kiss. My hands slide up his shirt, raking my nails up his back, desperate to cover as much skin as I can, to envelope him in my touch. The planes of muscles in his back ripple under my palms as he surges forward, slamming me into a set of shelves. 

"Sh!" I break away to tell him off, lips stinging, slipping my hands to his chest. "God you are terrible at being inconspicuous."

"It's funny to you until Dream cuts me open and strings my body up as a warning."

I shove him in the chest, but he doesn't even move, absorbing the blow. "That's not funny. That shit keeps me up at night."

"Not enough to stop you from dragging me into storage closets."