Chapter Text
Meursault didn't know what it was. Your notable features of you were your loyalty to his presence, your battle style that outshone every under soldato, and quite literally, your appearance. Well, perhaps not. He shouldn’t allow the looks of others to distract him.
Everything that you’ve done in the Thumb made you stand out from everyone. Some praised you for your skill and even suggested that you were in line for the next Capo. Others looked down on you with ugly faces, calling you names like “Bootlicker” or “Capo’s pet.” Even a couple moved out of the way when you went along the halls, as if you lead the Thumb already.
…and it was certainly noticeable.
Meursault found himself admiring you at times. Your devotion to the thumb was quite the feat. No other soldato of this finger could even come close to you in your field.
This trait of yours is something that makes him worry a little bit. Someone like you could easily unnecessarily go a little too far for his or another’s sake.
Oh well, it’s nothing to think about. You could hold your own in battle very easily. You’ll be okay.
…
STAB.
Time slowed down at the moment. Abnormalities are unpredictable beings. No matter how they form, there’s always going to be something that will catch you off guard.
SQUELCH.
Meursault could only watch as the maroon ant-like entity pierced your right thigh with its sword-like hands. The look on your face urged him to move out of position and help you immediately, even though it would break the team’s formation.
The abnormality penetrated your thigh even further, causing you to grimace at the pain with a shaky “nngh!”
You raised your bayonet-rifle to shoot the abnormality point-blank at the head, but before you could pull the trigger, another one of the same species stabbed your stomach from behind. You still tried fighting for your life, successfully shooting the one in front of you while coughing up blood.
As Meursault took down the rest of the abnormalities in his own path, he swore he could hear you calling for help. It seemed out of character, considering you would never ask for assistance. But also considering the position you were in…
“Hold off any more enemies if they come,” he ordered his squad, collecting ammunition on his belt and reloading the bullets powering his podao. One of the lower ranked soldatos glared at him with a confused look.
“But sir-”
Meursault ignored their protest, giving them a threatening glare, and adjusted his aviators before dashing off towards your direction, using one of the bullets charging his weapon. The exhaust pipes rattled in his grip but he wasn’t unfazed by them one bit. With a heavy swing, he sliced through the abnormality behind you in a heartbeat. A darker shade of red covered his already red suit and coat, as you let out a gasp, being free from the blade in your body.
You landed on one knee as he crouched to now your even lower height, wiping the blood off his aviators with his sleeve. You looked at him with an annoyed, yet puzzled expression.
“Did you really need to go out of your position to aid me?” you questioned. “I thought it isn’t necessary for the thumb to pull something like this. You could've gotten us all killed.”
Meursault narrowed his eyes. They were unreadable, like always. He didn't say a word. Instead, he reached a hand towards your face…or maybe your hair. Whatever it was, you refused by smacking his arm away and attempted to get up despite being wounded. Predictably, you failed and fell back down on your knee.
It was then you yelped when suddenly, your captain swept you off your feet and carried you over his shoulder, one of his arms snugly wrapped around you. You took a deep breath to process the situation before objecting, but you closed your mouth, because honestly…this didn’t feel too bad.
Still, you were experiencing a heavy loss of blood. With no energy to carry on, all you could do was shut your eyes…
…
Slowly, you regained vision, the first thing you did was scanning around a fancy room like the one in the Thumb hallways.
Walls and ceiling covered in stained mahogany wood, and a patterned carpet decorating the floor.
It felt as if you were laying on something. You looked at your feet to see them over white sheets.
An infirmary bed. Of course.
You sat up in your position, stretching your arms. There were bandages wrapped around your right thigh. You lifted up your shirt. Even more covered your midsection. You could also feel a small patch on the edge of your ear, probably from a cut that just grazed it.
You could clearly remember the abnormalities screeching in your face as they pierced you with their sharp hands before Meursault quite literally saved your life and carried you on his shoulder.
Why did he do that?! What got to him during that time?! Was he insane?!
You didn’t move an inch when the door opened. There came Meursault, in a suit clean of blood. He wasn’t wearing his fedora.
It was hard to see it through his aviators, but he almost looked…concerned? No, it’s just your imagination. Don’t think about it too much.
He just stood in the doorway, lips thinning before he spoke. “I see you’ve awoken.”
You nodded. “Yes. How long have I been resting?”
“Three days.”
“I see.”
You slowly shuffled out of the bed. “Can you walk?” your captain asked.
You blinked. Your superior wasn't usually the one to ask questions. He repeated the question, making you flinch, and you took a few steps. You were able, but there was a slight pain in your thigh, causing you to limp. Still, you responded with a blunt “yes.”
He responded with a nod and pulled a fresh cigar out of his pocket, taking a lighter on the table beside him and setting it. He put it to his mouth before puffing out smoke.
Meursault looked at your face. Despite you trying to hide it, you seemed traumatized from the injuries. After all, this was your first time getting severely wounded in battle.
He clicked his tongue. “What do you like to do for comfort?”
Your eyes widened at him. Now it was getting ridiculous. “Excuse me?”
He gazed at you. Hard. "Answer the question."
You stuttered in defense. “D-Don’t be ridiculous. I know where y-you’re coming from, but… But you already know I could hold my own. I always keep my head up for the Thumb-”
“I can see through you, you know.”
And so that silenced you immediately. “Didn’t know the Thumb East Capo cared,” you grumbled.
“I couldn’t hear you,” said Meursault.
You rolled your eyes. “Fine, fine. I like cuddling things, whether they’re a hug from someone or…” a slight blush creeped on your face, “just…holding a pillow close. It’s kind of a stress reliever for…”
You were then suddenly pulled forward by the wrist by Meursault, his other arm snaking around your waist. You gasped at the sight of being so close to his face. You thought his eyes were black this whole time, but they were actually a sage green.
“...Me…”
All you could do was finish your sentence. Then you were speechless. Meursault then pulled you tightly into his chest, your face pressed into the folds of his suit.
Your heart was beating out of your own chest. Wow. He did not take your words for granted.
Of course you swore your loyalty to him and the Thumb. For someone so stern, calm, and composed, you'd never even imagine coming close to touching him. And yet…all you could do now is wrap your arms around his large back, closing your eyes in his embrace. You didn't dare to question it. You just mumbled a soft "thank you."
Meursault didn't answer.
Part of you wanted to let go so you could go back to your duties…but…well…of course you were comforted. This feeling of standing inside his arms was so blissful.
It was lasting too long, though. You pushed yourself out of his arms, face red as a beet, as if rubbing it against his suit painted it that way. You looked at him to see if you had approval to leave, but he didn't move.
You limped out of the room without a word, closing the door behind you. It seems you weren't stopped.
Huh. This isn't like him at all...
You gritted your teeth. What a mistake. Usually when you think of your captain, it only lasts for a second. But now the thought of him now was very distracting…