Here we have a long chapter to compensate the long wait.. *laughs nervously*
...anyway, EnJoY!!!!
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The scorching desert rested silently, tumbleweeds bounced around as another day rolled by under the sun's intense heat.
*Wham! Wham! WHaM!*
You slammed one of your dirty sneakers against the van's back-left tire, attempting to dispose of at least some of the wet sand covering it.
"Sheila, are ya' seriously trynna clean yah filthy shoe with ma' camper?.."
You looked down at your shoe and back at him, seemingly thinking of a way to respond.
"....yes?" *WHaM!*
Mick groaned loudly, a little exaggeration in his tone. "Quit hittin' ma' van with yah bloody shoe! You'll get the toires even dirtier!"
You shook your sneaker roughly, some sand flying from it and landing on Mick's face. He shook his head, wiping his face with his torn shirt. "Bloody hell.." He muttered, looking up from his shirt at your blushing features.
"Heh, sorry!" You breathed out a nervous laugh, your cheeks tinted a soft red. You held your gaze a little longer, deciding to look away quickly before it became awkward.
Mick felt his heart skip a beat, the butterflies in his stomach making him want to giggle like a schoolgirl. He chuckled, smiling crookedly at you.
"Go rest fer awhoile on the van, Oi'll keep pushin' er.."
"WhAt? No, Mick, I'll help you."
"No, (Y/n), Oi know yah ankle's hurtin' again, go rest yer feet."
How did he know? You had made extra sure to keep a neutral expression, hiding any indication of pain or discomfort. It wasn't that you wanted to seem tough or strong to Mick; you just wanted to avoid this, actually.
You wanted to help, be useful and maybe in a way look like you could handle tough things, like he did. But it clearly hadn't worked.
The thing is, you were doing a pretty good job in hiding your discomfort, but Mick knew better. He'd been observing; not in a creepy way, of course. But he noticed how you tried extra hard not to wince, how your nose scrunched in pain occasionally, how your frown would become stronger when pushing the heavy vehicle.
He didn't want you to get hurt, but in a way, he thought maybe it was better not to call it out. Maybe you wanted to prove yourself. Prove what exactly? He had no clue.
And maybe he would've seem too rough, and then you'd be embarrassed, and he didn't want to make you feel even more uncomfortable or ashamed. How could he ever, if he only wanted to see you happy? So he just let you try. But now, it was getting out of hand, so he decided to stop for a while and let you rest.
As much as you wanted to argue with him, you accepted, climbing up the old van. Throwing your sandy shoes in a corner, you peeked out from the front door, observing Mick as he continued to push the van. Well, tried.
"C'mon Mundy, is that the best you got?!" You yelled, amused by his frowning expression.
"Be a man! Is this what your mama taught you?!"
He peeked out from behind the camper, giving you a sarcastic smile. "Do you wanna stay stranded in this bloody desert, or would ya like to keep pushing, love?" You giggled nervously, turning your gaze somewhere else as a blush crept up your cheeks. "Sorry, keep going.."
YOU ARE READING
Meeting Mr. Mundy (Sniper x reader Fanfiction)
Fanfiction(Y/n) is an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life; maybe too ordinary to be precise. Mr. Carson had offered her a job at his cafeteria. She was happy at her job, don't get me wrong, but what will happen when a tall, Australian man walks in through t...
