Simon had no idea what to do when his sargeant decided to start acting the way she was at the small pub after their last mission. Head shamelessly landed against his shoulder, he clenched his jaw at the feeling…a scowl now on his half covered face as he took a large swig of his beer…but why didn’t he just move you?
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
So here they were, almost identical to that night to every night they spent in this familiar setting..
His eyes practically glued to you silently as he watched you and Kyle play billiards from the bar, Johnny loudly cheering you on as you struck the cue ball for a drunken trick shot, failing miserably hitting a scratch. You chugged your pint of beer angrily complaining between sips about how “uneven” the table was as Gaz argued back about you being a sore loser. Price chuckling at the scene from beside Simon leaning against the bar top uncomfortably.
It was like clockwork, every single time you got back from a mission you’d all spend the evening on one of your off days on base at a local pub. Letting loose and enjoying yourselves before the next mission, returning back to the bloodshed and chaos. He wished on those nights he could ignore how your eyes would linger on him, how you’d always somehow end up absolutely wasted drunk.
Everytime getting closer and closer to him, last trip you’d practically been glued to his shoulder towards the end of the night. Half asleep, he acted angry, acted as if he hated the close proximity..When all he did was crave it, oh how wrong it felt to feel like this about his subordinate..The big bad Lieutenant Riley…secretly smitten over his Sargeant, what a joke.
So when the game ends, and you grumble something about how unfair it was, waltzing over to Simon to complain. Throwing your hands around as you expressed the many reasons you were upset. He looked blankly back at you, your eyes now focused on his, brows furrowed slightly as you noticed his expression from his half pulled up balaclava.
“Why are you always like this..” You grimmaced, cheeks flushed from the alcohol as you leaned across from him against the bar top. Price and Kate were far too distracted in their own conversation to even see the drunk woman making a fool of herself to her lieutenant once again. “Y’know…? All brooding and stuff…It scares off all the ladies..!”
You joked, words slurring as you widened your eyes lazily smirking as you decided to tease him further. Not taking the hint to quit at his unimpressed scowl from the exposed portion of his face. “Wait are you single LT…?”
“Hope So!”
Before he even had a chance to respond your words had cut him off. Breaking his blank stare as his eyes widened a smidgen from behind the cloth, going back to normal almost instantly as he scoffed annoyed. “Bloody hell woman, you’re pissed.” He grumbled taking a large gulp of his drink. Glancing at you out of his peripherals, practically side eyeing you.
Trying to keep his standoffish facade best he could , his thoughts running buck wild at your slurred words. ‘What did you mean? What does “Hope not!” even mean? Were you genuinely just that stupid..? Or just incredibly hammered..’
Yeah that was it you had no clue what you were saying. Like everytime they went to the pub, you got hammered and flirted shamelessly and forgot your actions by the next day. He always took you back to your barracks, you woke up alone and hungover stumbling into whatever meeting they had at base, tired and complaining about your agonizing headache.
So when the night ends and as he carried you in his big arms, thrown slumped over his shoulder back to your room at base, like always your eyes glimmered in hope that he’d maybe stay. Brows always furrowed as you, tucked in your bed in unspoken care, pouting at the silent man when darkness consumed you room as he gently shut the door, back turned to you. Only this time he muttered an almost impossible to make out sentence, his voice low and gruff as he looked back at you from behind the mask, eyes uncharacteristically soft.
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