There was something about that comment that made him curl a lip at her despite knowing that his preference was truth. He rung in his mind that way, and he couldn't imagine him liking being on his back much. There was always something important to protect beneath him in such instances, and he was not about to miss out on the opportunity to hide the identity of his tryst if they were caught. His broader body was a far more obvious shield than if she had lay on him. Warmth spread through his mind, but it only served to focus his attention and need for structure dangerously at her.
He walked over to the far side of the room where a chair was and settled his weight into it, kicking his legs up to settle on the desk. To the untrained eye, he was casual and ignoring the danger he put himself in, but anyone who know him could see his close a hand was to either gun or knife and in perfect position to the door to damage anyone coming to it.
He listened to her story while his eyes flicked over the screens, but the hardness around his mouth and eyes melted down as he remembered bits and pieces, putting it together into various incidences. The mission in Moscow was very familiar and came to him in startling clarity. Caretakers had low survival rates around him when he decided he didn't like what they were doing. The cold normally made him docile, but a mission made him hyper aware and sometimes a plain killer.
"I wasn't freezing," he said softly, looking at the screens with unseeing eyes, instead reliving that day well. "No one touched you like that and lived to see the other side. His blood was so red... I can still feel it on my skin if I think about it. I rotated you out into the blizzard as 'punishment' and found you later there." He cast a look at her. "You didn't like the cold much even then."
no subject
He walked over to the far side of the room where a chair was and settled his weight into it, kicking his legs up to settle on the desk. To the untrained eye, he was casual and ignoring the danger he put himself in, but anyone who know him could see his close a hand was to either gun or knife and in perfect position to the door to damage anyone coming to it.
He listened to her story while his eyes flicked over the screens, but the hardness around his mouth and eyes melted down as he remembered bits and pieces, putting it together into various incidences. The mission in Moscow was very familiar and came to him in startling clarity. Caretakers had low survival rates around him when he decided he didn't like what they were doing. The cold normally made him docile, but a mission made him hyper aware and sometimes a plain killer.
"I wasn't freezing," he said softly, looking at the screens with unseeing eyes, instead reliving that day well. "No one touched you like that and lived to see the other side. His blood was so red... I can still feel it on my skin if I think about it. I rotated you out into the blizzard as 'punishment' and found you later there." He cast a look at her. "You didn't like the cold much even then."