With a gesture, Woods caught Bell's attention.

"A patrol is approaching our position. Find a way in.", his eyes jumped down to you for a moment. "We'll follow around."

Understanding, Bell nodded and disappeared into the other direction, towards the huge cube shaped building that rose into the dark night sky.

Woods pulled you into the other direction, towards the gates.

Confused, you frowned.

"What's the deal, old man?", you asked and followed him, gun pressed to your chest.

He stopped behind a pile of barrels and gestured for you to stay hidden as well.

"We'll look for some more info until Bell calls.", he whispered and glanced over his shoulder.

"I should be with him."

"He's being weird."

"I noticed. But I need to go with him."

"Terrible idea."

With a sarcastic grin, you raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, and you think us being together is a better idea?"

Groaning softly, he opened a door and pulled you in.

"At least I'm not trying to stab you.", he said, pulled out his binoculars again and looked though a window to memorise the patrols pattern. "Not anymore."

With your back leaned against a wall, you eyed him and chuckled.

"Uh, we're making progress.", you wiggled your eyebrows. "A little more and I'll say yes again if you propose."

He pulled a face.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"I will."

"You don't dare."

But before you could say anything more, a shadow covered you. Struck by surprise, you flinched, only to realise that Woods was towering over you.

With a grim gaze, eyebrows pulled together, his blue eyes looked down on you while his hands rested on each side of your head. Slowly, he came closer, until his slow breath stroked your face.

A cold shiver crawled down your spine.

"Old man?", you swallowed thickly.

You've never been afraid of Woods. He had never given you a reason to fear him.

And yet.

This time, he looked like he was about to set the world aflame. There was so much anger buried inside his icy eyes. There was so much hate.

"Don't say that ever again.", he warned in a voice, so calm, it was enough to freeze the air. "Or I'll make you regret it."

A shivering breath escaped you.

His eyes jumped to your lips.

"I was just joking...", you tried to smile to calm him.

But he remained unmoved.

"Don't."

"I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"I am. Really."

A deep, long breath escaped him.

The warmth of the air kissed your face.

He pulled back, satisfied with that answer and the fact that he had managed to scare you a little bit.

But despite the relief that you've felt, there was also something else growing inside your chest.

Was that regret?

Without thinking, your hand reached out and grabbed the collar of his parker.

Confused, Woods raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

All of a sudden, you didn't know what to do. Your brain wanted to let go. But your hand desperately clung to him. Your mind screamed to run but your body wished nothing more but to stay.

His fingers moved, one by one.

"Let go, mushroom.", he finally demanded in his usual, strong voice.

This voice.

This goddamn voice that managed to make your day, no matter how bad the night before was.

This voice, that send undesirable feelings through every inch of your body.

This fucking voice, that echoed like no other in your ears.

"Don't call me that.", you gasped and looked up at him.

Your hand pressed against his chest.

But he refused to move one bit.

"Why not?"

"It's from the past."

He shook his head.

"You still call me old man."

You swallowed thickly.

"I always called you that.", you tried to force your hand to open.

But your body didn't obey to your command.

His head tilted to the side, further down.

The tip of his black hair tickled your forehead. His nose brushed against yours.

"Look at me.", he demanded. "Mushroom. Look at me."

But you refused to. Stubborn, you shook your head and looked away.

His hand jumped forward and wrapped around your jaw. With soft strength, Woods forced you to look at him.

"Don't treat me like you used to.", he warned, eyes locked with yours. "It won't do us any good. Now let go. And I'll stop calling you mushroom."

Your lips twitched.

"I- I can't...", you breathed. "My hand... won't open."

"Stop bullshitting around."

"I'm not. I swear."

"Then what do you want?"

"Nothing. Seriously, there is nothing I want from you. I'd be happy to let you go, but I can't. My hand just... won't open."

Again, you tried to force your grip to loosen. But it only chased a sharp pain through your joints.

He watched you struggle.

"What the hell...", he mumbled and grabbed your face. "Fuck it."

Without warning, his lips crashed onto yours.

The way he kissed was still the same, soft but demanding as if he feared that you'd slip away and leave him. He had always kissed like this. But now, after his fear had come true, it tasted bitter sweet.

The air started burning inside your lungs. But you refused to let go. Instead, your grip on his parker tightened and you pulled him closer.

His hands wandered down to rest on your hips. They were gentle, but the way his fingers wrapped around you made clear that there was no turning back no more. He wouldn't let go, no matter if you wanted or not.

As both of you were out of breath, you parted.

Immediately, your hand opened.

"What the fuck was that?", you asked with a shocked expression.

Unmoved, he shrugged.

"I wanted you to let me go.", he said as if this meant nothing.

"And this was your best idea?!"

"It was my only idea."

"Fuck you!"

His eyebrows pulled together.

"You're mad?", he asked, suddenly feeling angry as well. "You're the one who keeps teasing and pushing me. You're the one who jokes around and... helps us be cool with each other again."

"I'm trying to get past it. I don't want to fight anymore!"

"Neither do I!"

"Then why are we fighting?!"

"Because I can't let this go!", as soon as he had said it out loud, he froze. "Fuck it. It's no use anyways. Let's bury it."

Swallowing hard, you nodded.

What else were you supposed to do?

Kiss him?