It was well past noon before I woke up. I was groggy from everything and only cared to go back to sleep.
I rolled over, my face now on Mason's shoulder. Guess he didn't get out of bed, either.
"Guess it's time to get up." He mumbled sleepily. I groaned, not wanting to. "Up and at em. I need a shower." I just rolled off of him, and rolled my face into the pillow, dozing back off... and was rudely awoken by a fur ball licking my toes.
"I'm awake! I'm awake!" I pulled my feet back under the covers, sitting up, finding Spitfire staring at me with a smile and his tongue sticking out. "I'm going to nickname you toe licker." He leapt at me, trying to lick my face. "Gross! Down boy!" He did a few circles before plopping on his butt, waiting for me to get up. I got out of bed, and he hopped down with me, ready to go out, and right as I opened the door-
"Oh! Uh... Ms. Romera..." Right into Agnes.
"He... he didn't break the news, did he?" She looked a little confused. "Oh boy."
"I think... one of you needs to explain this to me."
*
I had to be the one to break it to her, since I was found walking out of his room.
"Well, I can't say I didn't see it coming." She said lightly, stirring sugar into her tea. "But, and pardon my language, that was bullshit what your Chief had did to you." I stifled a laugh.
"It's no big deal anymore. I've been registered Federally as a bodyguard, I just have to have state clearances. I try not to travel out of Texas often... but because I am registered with the government, I do not have to be employed by a company." I tidied up my coffee. "But... I'll ask around for quotes and meet with certain companies with him until we can find a fit... and one that won't let this happen again... and while he'll have one bodyguard employed by that company, non-live in, I'll just be his interpreter at work and help around wherever I'm needed."
"It seems more than reasonable... and let me be the first to say this, after all the years I've been with him, you don't know how happy it makes me to see him finally relax around someone... He hasn't been with anybody in five years, and I know he's been lonely, but he also didn't want to traumatize a Civi, as you call them." I knew full well that feeling because I did the same thing. "You two are more alike than you know it... and I don't want to see anything happen to either of you." I reached over, squeezing her hand.
"Thanks, Agnes."
*
While Agnes ran off to the store since it was already starting to warm up, Mason and I went on a small trek with Spitfire to let him go play in the remaining snow.
"Agnes knows." I told him. "She was there when I opened the door earlier, so I just broke the news." He looked shocked.
"How'd she take it?"
"Well, actually. She basically said you won't be a lonely grump anymore." He put a hand on his chest, mocking offense.
"Me? Grumpy? Okay, well... a little bit." I chuckled, walking close beside him as we came to the mid point of the trail, turning around to go back to the house. Forty degrees was still too cold for us southerners.
Back at the house, I dried Mr. Fluffball off and got him fed, while he searched for companies and got quotes put in.
I sat beside him on the sofa right as he finished, putting a mug in his hands of Kahlua hot chocolate, and sipped my own. I made sure to keep some guns hidden around the house now for ease of access. There was one in the desk right beside him, which was his 1911.
"Mm. This is really good." I put my legs over his lap, laying my head on his shoulder.
"I modified it a tiny bit. Secret recipe." He chuckled, rubbing my calf. We sat like that for a little bit, watching something on Netflix. After a few minutes, and finished drinks, he took our mugs to the kitchen, and came back, but instead, he took a spot next to the arm, and moved me to sit in his lap, but almost exactly the way I had been before, just opposite.
I was cozy enough to fall asleep... but he had other plans.
I felt him keep looking down at me, so finally, I gave in, and looked up. Ours lips met, softly, growing hungrier and hungrier, until he shifted me to straddle him, his hands going to my hair, mine resting one on his shoulder, one behind his neck.
Then, he became adventurous. His hands slipped under my shirt, caressing my back, skimming across my skin lightly enough to make me shiver.
He moved his hand down from my back to my ass, grabbing a cheek, pressing me harder against him, the bulge of his thick erection a sign of evident want and need.
"Fucking hell," he breathed heavily, "The things I want to do..." He lips trailed to my jaw, his tongue licking down my neck, making me shudder out a soft moan.
"Agnes is going to be home any minute..." I panted in his ear, arms locked around his neck.
"You're right. She doesn't need to see that." He lifted me up, and marched on into his bedroom, laying me down on his side of the bed, my legs still hanging off the edge. He leaned over me, still pressing kisses all over my neck and jaw, slowly inching my shirt up. I suddenly felt anxious. Not that I hadn't trimmed or shaved, but the scars. Self inflicted and war wounds...
"Wait, wait wait wait." He stopped, not pushing me further. "I...-"
"You're nervous. Tell me what's wrong." I pulled my shirt down, hiding the barely-visible to him stab wound I gained in Russia... all for being Jewish. By blood, I was. By choice, I had no belief. Twelve men had beaten me up, all for the religion I didn't ask for.
"I don't think I'm ready for this, yet..." He frowned, brushing my stray hair out of my face.
"You're going back to your corner, Leysa. What are you worried about?" I pulled my knees to my chest.
"You're not going to like what you see." I whispered, putting my face in my knees. He laughed. He actually started laughing. "Thanks for laughing at my pain." I pushed myself off the bed, going for the door. He stopped me, gently grabbing my wrist.
"No, I'm laughing because you think I'm worried about the scars?" I had to keep from bursting. "Leysa, have you seen me?" He pulled off his shirt, revealing a couple jagged, raised pink lines. He pointed at the one on his side. "Iran, 2010. Fucker got my appendix. Rushed to Saudi Arabia for emergency surgery." He pointed to the one on his pectoral. "Afghanistan, 2009. Lady didn't like that I was surveying, thought I wanted to rape her. She took a machete and slashed me." He pointed out four others. Then stopped when he turned to his back, revealing one massive one. "My last tour, 2014 before your evac, six months prior. Iran. A kid did this." I swallowed, unable to think of anything. "Lift your Shirt. Tell me their stories." I hesitated, and did.
"Russia. 2009." I remembered the burning pain of the blade. "Beaten within an inch of my life because of my birth parent's religion." He knelt down, and gave it a soft kiss.
"And this one?" He looked at the one on my hip.
"Korea, near the DMZ. Refugee from the north slashed me with a knife, and fled." Another soft kiss.
"This one." He saw my wrist. Tears came to my eyes.
"Here. 2014. After burying Hades, and losing my child." I choked out. Another soft kiss and he stood.
"Your scars don't define you, Firehawk. Your wit, incredibly sexy mind full of so many languages, and what you have seen, and your gorgeous red hair, making you flaming hot whenever you got mad, it makes me think every time that happens, you're going to catch fire." He wiped away my tears. "I understand your fears... Anxiety... But you don't have to worry about that with me." I focused on breathing. He was right. "You're beautiful, Smart, and god forbid I make you mad." I couldn't help but smile. "I see you for you, not your imperfections. If you're not ready, there's no pressure." I slipped my arms around him, resting my head on his chest.
"Thank you." His kissed the top of my head.
"Come on. If we're not going to get dirty, might as well relax." We went to lay on the bed, curled up as a show on Hulu played. He gently stroked my skin at my waist with his thumb, just enjoying each other's company. Until we smelled bacon, signaling Agnes' return.
"Club time." We grinned at each other, throwing our shirts back on, and walked out, hand in hand, to go devour some mean tasting sandwiches.
This, ladies and gents, is how you're supposed to treat each other. Honesty, love, and devotion. Don't settle for less.
-Shay