@shadessupreme sent: 🤯 or 💍, whichever you feel more comfortable with! 💍 - a starter where our muses are enemies forced to marry. // from this meme.
Chris had never quite imagined the reason he’d have a ring on his left hand would be for this-- for the name Wesker attached to his own, for the purposes of deception. He doesn’t much care for it; he’s never been a fan of long undercover ops to begin with, and the hatred he feels for the man that’d once been his captain burns as steadily as it has since 1998. But Wesker is the only connection they have to this steadily growing pharmaceutical company in Korea, and the notorious Chris Redfield of BSAA fame would never be allowed within a circle of bioterrorists.
Not unless he was completely, unflinchingly, on Wesker’s side, that is. And what’s more unflinching than marriage to bond them outside of work?
Tonight they have a party to attend, full of big names in the East Asian bioterrorist market and a few smaller ones looking to aim high. There’s no easier way to get bioterrorists together than the unveiling of a new weapon in the making, after all. Chris has had to tell himself in the bathroom multiple times not to fistfight everyone he sees, and as he steps out now with a scowl on his face, he looks down at his bowtie and wonders why the hell he can’t seem to get it done right.
“Are you ready to go yet?” Chris asks, lifting his head briefly to catch wherever Wesker’s made himself comfortable in the living room. He doesn’t know what the man thinks of being used by the BSAA like this, but at the same time he can’t bring himself to care. Chris can’t even say it’s the least Wesker could do-- ever since Spencer Mansion, ever since the Veronica Virus, ever since Uroboros, Albert Wesker has racked up debt after debt after debt, and there’s no way to make up for that, not in his lifetime.
At the same time, though, the faint memories of the first party Chris had to attend as a member of STARS Alpha team come to mind. He remembers the way his captain looked in a suit then as he looks at him in a suit now, and he remembers how much he’d looked up to him, admired him, and wanted his approval.
All those feelings are ash in his mouth. All of them choke his neck the same way the ring around his finger feels like a death wish.
And Chris gives up on his fucking bowtie. “We should get going before we’re late.”
