Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13531965.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Overwatch_(Video_Game)
  Relationship:
      Jesse_McCree/Hanzo_Shimada, Jesse_McCree_&_Hanzo_Shimada, Emily/Lena
      "Tracer"_Oxton, Emily_&_Lena_"Tracer"_Oxton, Past_Fareeha_"Pharah"_Amari/
      Lena_"Tracer"_Oxton, Past_Fareeha_"Pharah"_Amari_&_Hanzo_Shimada
  Character:
      Jesse_McCree, Hanzo_Shimada, Reaper_|_Gabriel_Reyes, Angela_"Mercy"
      Ziegler, Soldier:_76_|_Jack_Morrison, Lena_"Tracer"_Oxton, Mei-Ling_Zhou,
      Fareeha_"Pharah"_Amari, Widowmaker_|_Amélie_Lacroix, Emily_(Overwatch),
      Genji_Shimada
  Additional Tags:
      Slow_Burn, Bisexuality, Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual_Male_Character,
      Masturbation, Like_Lots, Crushes, Unrequited_Love, Angst, Heavy_Angst,
      fluff_later_on, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Other_Additional_Tags
      to_Be_Added, Tags_May_Change, Sex, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Oral_Sex,
      Hand_Jobs, Public_Masturbation, Masturbation_in_Shower, Blow_Jobs,
      Orgasm, Friends_to_Lovers, Roommates, teammates, AU_where_the_Shimadas
      never_fought, Porn_waaaaayyy_later, like_maybe_chapter_10??, dunno_but_it
      won't_be_for_a_while, slowest_burn_to_ever_burn_slow, Angst_and_Tragedy,
      Sadness
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-31 Updated: 2018-02-20 Chapters: 3/? Words: 4583
****** New to This ******
by gayness
Summary
     Lena's gone, and Hanzo's blaming himself. Her replacement arrives
     today.
      
     Just to mention, all the characters are thirty-ish, save Morrison and
     Reyes, who're in their early fifties. Also it's a bit of an AU where
     the Shimada brothers don't end up fighting and just flee Japan. Hope
     you enjoy!
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Hanzo's Guilt *****
 Dear Lena,
 I miss you, and I apologize for everything. I wish I could make it up to you
but now all I can do is write and regret, though you’ll never see this. Angela
said that writing to you might help with my grief. I’m positive that it won’t,
but it’s comforting being able to at least pretend that I’m talking to you.
 The new recruit is arriving today, and Reyes, Morrison, Angela, Genji,
Fareeha, Mei and I are all supposed to greet him. I’ve decided I’m not going;
I’ve barely been out of our room since you left. The past two weeks have been
hard, but it’s something I must face alone. I mustn’t show weakness… am I weak
for not going? I don’t think Fareeha is greeting the recruit either.
 We can’t complete our missions when one of us has been dead for a couple weeks
and two of us might as well be. Genji’s trying his best with me, but I don’t
deserve to move on. It’s my fault you’re not here; I don’t get to forget that.
 I’ll write to you again, so until next time,
  “Hanzo,” I sign. I trace the scaled dragon on the leather cover of the
journal, a gift from a friend not forgotten. Another ocean of guilt begins to
wash over me, no, drown me, and I wonder if this will be the one that finally
kills me. There’s a knock on my door, and while not totally unexpected, it
still startles me out of my regret. I silently scold myself for my weakness. A
man shouldn't be acting this way.
  “Enter,” my voice no louder than a whisper. I’ve barely used my voice for
anything but sobbing since Lena died. Looking up, my expression turns defensive
at the sight of my brother. “I’m not goi-“ “You’re going to be late for the
recruit’s welcome,” he interrupts. “I’m not going Genji,” I reply sternly,
meaning to end the conversation abruptly. Of course I’m not. If two out of the
five of us don’t show, it’s not a big deal. Though, it's quite disrespectful
and possibly offensive to our recruit...
  Genji’s expression softens, though remains sincere. “I understand you’re
mourning. We all are, and we know that the newbie will never replace her, but
it’s unfair to him if half of his team doesn’t greet him upon arrival. If he
doesn’t know us, how will he ever trust us, right?” the green haired man
smiles. I listen to his obviously rehearsed speech, but that’s not what gets me
up off my bed. I mustn’t be selfish. I need to pull myself together. I give him
a short nod after a second’s hesitation. Wordlessly, Genji exits my room,
presumably to grab Angela. I still feel foggy, too caught in my thoughts. I
pinch my arms to bring me back to reality, not even wincing at the bruises I’ve
become so accustomed to. If I’m to be seen, I need to shower.
  I step into the scalding water. If the it hurts, it might distract me.
Lathering shampoo into my hair followed by conditioner, I just need to soap up
and I’m done. Of course I’ve run out, so I awkwardly rummage through my sink’s
cabinet for a new bottle. The humid air begins to suffocate me as I realise
what I’m holding in my hand. The pineapple shaped bottle of soap is Lena’s.
It’s all hers. She lived here, of course it was. I wouldn’t mind, if only I
could see her again to return it. If only she were here. I shakily open the
bottle; the heavily fragranced soap smells exactly how she used to. My eyes
sting, my hands shake, and I slam the bottle down harder than I mean to. I’ll
deal with this later. I can’t waste any more time.
  Pulling a hoodie over my undershirt, I inhale. Buttoning up the closest pair
of jeans I could find, I exhale. Now standing before my mirror, I am disgusted
by the person staring back at me. The dark circles under my bloodshot eyes
contrast the rest of my pale face. Tying my hair back, my door opens for a
second time this morning. I glance at the entrance through the reflection.
“It’s nice to see you, Angela,” I greet with little energy I have. “Thank you
Hanzo… how’ve you been?” she asks, barely concealing her concern. I know she
has my best interests at heart, but it still feels like she’s examining me. I
turn to face her and she gives me a sad smile. Before approaching me, the
talented doctor glances outside the door. “Can I do something?” Angela asks
softly. I furrow my brow at the shorter woman. She patiently awaits permission,
and adds, “It won’t hurt, I promise. And it’s not a medical thing either.” I
nod slowly. “Alright, go ahead.”
 Angela instructs me to sit on the stool beside my mirror and I obey. Quickly,
she pulls a smaller bag out of her purse. Rummaging through, she grabs what
looks like two types of concealer and some sort of powder. “Angela, I’m not
wearing makeup,” I roll my sore eyes. “Give me a chance, macho man. I won’t
make you look like a drag queen.” Not five minutes later, she instructs me to
look in the mirror. I muster something close to a smile. She made me look okay;
I guess she really is an angel. “Thank you,” I tell with the most energy I can
gather. “Don’t mention it. If we want to be early we must leave now though!”
she exclaims while reading her watch. If only she knew how much I’ll hate
myself for this later. “You ready?” she asks seriously. “Let’s just go,” I
breathe.
  I lead her out of my unit to where Genji is waiting down the corridor. I
steady myself on the blue handrails that line the hall, when did I become this
weak? “That shower sure freshened you up! Come on,” Genji compliments and
Angela smirks from behind him. I sit on the four seater couch in the common
room. Our mission coordinators, Morrison and Reyes, sit beside me. “Good
morning,” I greet, trying hard to ignore the fact that I’ve only come down here
in the past two weeks for food, drinks, toilet paper, and tissues. “Good
morning, Shimada. What’s new?” Morrison continues the small talk. “Oh, life’s
got me busy, you know?” I chuckle, painfully. “I certainly do,” he replies.
“Jack, would you mind if he and I talked in private for a bit?” Reyes asked his
equal. “Absolutely, I need to confirm something with Ziegler anyway.” And with
that, he walked away from us.
 “Shimada, what’s the deal? You’re the most level headed of all of us.” “It’s
just Lena, sir,” I sigh. Reyes lowers his voice, “Were you two… involved?” I
chuckle, but with no hint of happiness. “No sir, she had Emily and I had never
thought of her like that.” “I see… so just close friends?” he questions. “Yes
sir. Quite close,” I admit. “I apologise for prying,” he starts, “but take care
of yourself. We start training again in a few days with McCree,” he warns. I
shoot him a questioning look. “The new recruit? Shimada, please don’t isolate
yourself like this again. Your job is to kill, and usually, our enemies put up
a fight. Keep that in mind, okay?” he instructs me. He’s right.
  The clock reads 11:00. Genji and Angela sit next to me and the coordinators
discuss arrangements surrounding McCree. Mei clunks down the staircase,
seemingly dragging Fareeha along with her. Before Mei, Lena was her roommate,
so her death has been taking its toll on Fareeha too. Mei had only known Lena
for a couple years, while we had known her for more than a decade. Fareeha
nearly collapses onto the cushion beside me and tries to stifle a sob. “Me
too,” I murmur. “What if next time, it’s Genji or Mei,” she whispers, “or one
of us?” “There won’t be a next time,” I assure her. There’s no way to know, but
I desperately hope I’m right. She whimpers, now crying onto my shoulder. “I
should have knocked on your door, Fareeha. I apologize.” With that, she sniffs
her nose and hugs me.
  We stay on the couch for 20 minutes, my arm around her shoulder and my head
resting on hers. “I’ll be back,” I whisper to Fareeha. She doesn’t respond,
because I know she hasn’t slept well since Lena died. Going from slouched to my
usual posture, I sit around the kitchen table with everyone else. “So, Talon
has stolen information we didn’t know existed,” Morrison started, “information
that could help us." When we’re given last-minute missions, it’s always like
this. My heart sinks less than I had expected, and I guess I understand why.
I’ve stared down my guilt, is it time to ignore it? Once we’ve been assigned
our positions, we all return to the common area, where Fareeha still lays. I
look down at her and give her a bittersweet smile.
  I wish I could rewind time, but only one of us could do that.
***** The Quiet Cowboy *****
Chapter Summary
     Hanzo makes a friend.
“I was her first kiss,” Lena had winked at me, referring to Fareeha. At the
time I was taken aback. Having few friends prior to Overwatch, I wasn’t used to
being confided in, let alone this bluntly and nonchalantly. “You shouldn’t kiss
and tell,” I had jokingly warned. “She said it was preparation for a boy!” she
giggled. “Could’ve prepared with me,” I thought. Surprised by my mind’s
immediate response, a blush dusts my cheeks pink. Lena noticed. “I knew it!”
she giggles.
  15 years ago, Fareeha, Lena, and I had been recruited, all within a week of
each other. Fareeha and Lena immediately became friends, but I was untrusting.
After their unrelenting pestering, telling me to “open up” and to “just trust
us!”, I had accepted that I hadn’t really a choice. By the next year, we knew
everything about each other, and we were just as good teammates as we were
friends.
  Genji and I had just escaped Japan, but he didn’t join Overwatch until much
later. Looking back, I realise that I rarely saw him and while I was living at
the base, he was god knows where. I still feel guilty about it, but I know that
we would have starved if I hadn’t agreed to join. If I hadn’t joined, I have no
doubts that I’d be dead by my own hand. “The goings were going badly,” as
Morrison would say.
 “You knew? I mean, I don’t,” I retort. “You guys would be cute together!” she
insists, still laughing. I feel almost queasy. “How unprofessional, Hanzo,” I
think. “Swallow your feelings, you’ve finally made friends. You can’t ruin
this.” Lena must have seen how uncomfortable I was. “Is this your first crush,
Hanzo?” she suddenly wonders. “I know; I’m broken. What kind of fifteen year
old hasn’t even had thoughts about anyone like that?” I want to say. Instead I
nod my head, face hot. If she was weirded out, she didn’t show it. “Really?
I’ll see what I can do then!” she replies. I’ve never shaken my head as hard as
I had then.
 Replaying these memories makes the grief even worse. Leaning against an awake
but silent Fareeha, I barely even feel the tears leaving my eyes and only
notice them drizzling my pant legs. She traces circles on my back, an odd but
soothing gesture. Remorse envelops me. I could have saved her. I should have
saved her, but I didn’t.
  Reyes enters the common room from the kitchen. “McCree will be arriving any
time now. Best behaviour, all of you,” he orders, eyeing Genji in particular. I
quickly wipe the tears from my cheeks before Reyes can notice. “Weakness,” my
mind nearly taunts at this point.
  A few minutes later, the grandfather clock that stands by the door chimes
noon. A motorcycle is loudly parked in the garage, and a ring from the doorbell
chimes throughout the common room. Morrison swings the door open.
 “Howdy,” the man behind me greets. He sounds gruff, but friendly. If I’m the
make a first impression, it will be a good one. Another swipe at the tears no
longer falling, I stand to face our newcomer. His eyes flick from each of us as
Morrison welcomes him in. I’m last, so I admire him for the extra few seconds
it gives me. The tall man has relaxed brown eyes and a polite grin. His boots
reach mid shin to be met by the worn denim the covers his lower half. His red
plaid shirt matches his… um, blanket? “Ask him later, it’ll give you an excuse
to speak to him,” I think, shortly followed by, “Why do I need an excuse to
talk to him, is being teammates not enough?” I question.
  When he looks at me, I give him I slight smile (that in hindsight probably
looked l was in excruciating pain). He doesn’t seem to mind, and lets his grin
broaden. Not, um, bad looking per se. Why am I suppressing a giggle?
 Everyone greets him politely, and Morrison escorts him upstairs to his room. I
notice how little luggage he has.
  “You seem chipper,” Mei comments in regards to me. Fareeha replies before I
open my mouth to respond. “He’s allowed to be happy,” she reminds both her and
I. “She wasn’t there,” my mind nags, “if she knew how horribly I had let down
Lena and myself, she’d hate me. Happiness is for those who deserve it.”
Not 10 minutes later, Morrison and McCree return from the dwelling area. “So
who wants to introduce themselves first?” Reyes asks. No one volunteers, so he
goes first. “I’m Gabriel Reyes, I’m a veteran and a planner for this
team, which apparently is shyer than a new kid in grade school,” he complains,
rolling his eyes. “It’s a pleasure t’ meet cha,” the cowboy smiles, now joining
us in the circle of chairs around the coffee table.
  “Well?” Reyes looks to his right. “I’m next, then. My name is Genji Shimada,
I’ve been here for nearly 10 years, and my favourite food is Fareeha’s curry,”
he ends with a grin. McCree nods. “Angela Ziegler, medic, and I like to dance,”
she lists, and the cowboy chuckles. “I’m Mei-Ling Zhou and winter is my
favourite season,” she giggles at her reference. Our newcomer smiles, though
it’s obvious he’s not sure what she found funny.
  “Can’t wait to mess this up,” sighing internally. I clear my throat. “I’m
Hanzo. Genji is my younger brother,” my voice is raspy at best. “And I have a
bit of a cold,” I lie.
  “Get well soon, Hanzo,” he says furrowing his brow. Though taken aback, I
maintain my composure. “I’ll try.”
  Fareeha seems content. “I’m Fareeha, and I enjoy cooking,” she introduces
herself. Again, McCree nods and smiles. 
  The next couple hours pass along fine, with the others cracking jokes and
Fareeha, McCree and I half-heartedly laughing along. Lena’s death seems all the
more real to me now that her spot on the team has been replaced, and I’m sure
to Fareeha too. McCree though, perhaps he’s homesick?
 I begin to tire as afternoon turns to evening. Thankfully, Genji had talked
Fareeha into making supper nearly an hour ago, so I can eat and call it an
early night. McCree is fitting in well with everyone, but he speaks to me
differently. Not patronizingly, but gentler. Perhaps Morrison had told him
about Lena, though I was hoping he wouldn’t.
 Before I know it, a spicy smelling food is on my place mat. McCree, or, Jesse,
as he told me to call him, is sat beside me. He’s close enough that I can smell
his cologne, or maybe it’s his natural scent? My mind begins to wander. “No,” I
tell myself to stop the thoughts before they start.
  A bottle of wine is passed around the table, and Jesse pours both of our
glasses. “To McCree,” Reyes toasts. “To McCree,” everyone repeats. “To Jesse,”
I mutter under my breath. The bearded man turns to me and grins.
  Fareeha never fails to impress when it comes to her cooking. Her meals keep
us healthy and satisfied, and any of us would take the chance to try her food
for the first time again in a heartbeat. Perhaps that’s why I’m watching Jesse
eat so carefully, or that’s what I’m telling myself. He hasn’t noticed, so I’m
sure nobody else has.
 “The meal was delicious, Fareeha, thank you,” I bow, “I’ll be excusing myself
now, goodnight everyone.” Scattered goodnights followed me. “Er, thanks very
much Fareeha ma’am, it was divine. I’ll be excusin’ myself too if y’ don’t
mind,” Jesse tells Fareeha, and she nods. “Goodnight, you two,” she calls. We
both file up the stairs and down the corridor to the dwelling area.
  “Well,” the taller man started, “this’s my stop. Rest well, Hanzo,” he says
as he fishes for the key fob that unlocks his door. I swear I can see his
cheeks deepen a shade. “Thank you, and to you,” I bid farewell. Just a door
down is my unit. I let myself in while simultaneously pulling the ribbon from
my hair. What an exhausting day. I undress and leave myself only in my boxers.
Crawling into bed, I wonder what horror my mind will create as a nightmare
tonight.
***** Nighttime Conversations *****
Chapter Summary
     Even the worst things are better with Jesse McCree at your side
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Enemies surrounded us. “Are we just going to shoot our way out of this, or are
we going to give these people something to remember?” Lena asked us. “Guess,”
Fareeha replied, before grabbing the both of us, blasting upwards, and dropping
us on either side of the mob. When she suddenly dropped from the air, Lena and
I thought she had been shot.
 “Armour’s malfunctioning!” she screamed into her headset. Each millisecond she
fell increased her chance of death. We needed to act fast. Desperately spraying
shots into the seemingly multiplying crowd, Lena cried, “The damned bomb isn’t
ready yet!”
 My panic-stricken heart was beating out of my chest, so quickly that I felt
seconds away from death but never more alive in my life. Nausea winded me, a
sharp stab of pain flew through my head, and my arms felt as if they were being
electrocuted. I screamed louder than I thought a 17 year old possible and shot
my arrow.
 Two spiralling dragons I had only seen in dreams shot through the pack,
leaving no survivors. There was no time for celebration though, as we rushed
over to Fareeha to see if she had injured herself while falling.
 “I’m good, you guys,” she reassured us, using my hand to pull herself up.
“That was incredible Hanzo, you saved our asses just then,” Lena laughed. “But
I didn’t,” I chuckle. “What do yo-,“ she started. She was interrupted by my
arrow cleanly sinking between her eyes. 
 “NO!” I cry into my dark sleeping quarters. Tears begin to well up yet again
and stream down my face. “No… no… that’s not what happened… no…” I gasp in
between sobs. I wish I could silence my mind. I wish I could stop feeling this
pain, this weakness, and just live again. I wish I could sleep without my
subconscious taking every happy thought that’s ghosted my mind and twisting it.
 I wish I could die, and I wish I were more surprised by that.
 I realise how stuffy the air in this room is. Before I register that I’m even
up, I’m walking towards the kitchen with tied hair and pyjamas. “Can’t even
sleep through the night, like an infant!” the nasty voice in my head complains.
 At least nobody could have heard me. The dwellings are set up so the men are
separate from the women, and the planners are separate from everyone. Genji
usually spends his time in Angela’s room, so that counts him out, and aside
from him, I’m the only man.
 Wait, no I’m not.
 Jesse McCree, our relatively friendly newcomer. Perhaps I hadn’t woken him?
Though who am I kidding, of course I had.
 As I shakily pour myself a glass of water, someone enters from the dining
room. The oven’s clock reads 4:00.
 “I apologise for waking you,” I say, turning to face Jesse. He somehow looks
better than he did earlier, bunny slippers resting below flannel pyjama pants
and a large button up to cover his torso.
 “Don’ worry about it. Y’ want t' tell me what happened?” he offers with a
sympathetic smile. I sigh. I don’t want him to think I’m a basket case by our
second day of knowing each other. “You do not wish to know, and you must rest,”
I assure the persistent cowboy.
 “I wouldn’t be able ta sleep ‘nyways,” he admits. I glance at him, wishing I
didn’t look so fragile. “We can talk about somethin’ else then. Whatever y’
fancy.”
 I nod my head and sip my water slowly. “Whatever you wish,” I tell him. The
cowboy grins. “Let’s chat in the livin’ room then, shall we?” he suggests.
 I’m not entirely sure why I’m going along with this. Usually, if this were to
happen with anyone other than Lena or Fareeha, I usually would have excused
myself to “try to get back to sleep”. But something’s different about this man,
and I’m not sure I like it.
 He seems nice enough and brings happiness when we talk (or at least distracts
me from sorrow), but I feel weak around him. He isn’t imposing or controlling;
I feel as though I’m trusting too fast. I haven’t felt this this open for a
long time.
 I follow him to the living room and I sit down on the couch and he makes
himself comfortable just inches from my side. Usually my brain wouldn’t bother
noting this, but this is Jesse McCree, and everything’s different when it comes
to Jesse McCree.
 We start off talking about the team; their strengths, weaknesses, abilities.
Jesse seems to enjoy letting me talk, so I try not to let silence impose on our
conversation. Slowly, he starts gearing the subject toward me. Not just my
fighting techniques, he’s really interested in my opinions, likes and dislikes.
 I horrible thought surfaces. “What if he’s just here to gain information?”
 “So what about you, Jesse?” I quickly ask. “What do you do in your spare
time?” “Me? I haven’t had spare time in a long while, but if I did I’d spend
ev’ry las’ minute with my friends,” he admits. “He’s not a double agent, Hanzo,
Overwatch’s background checks are nothing to underestimate,” I reason with
myself.
 After nearly three hours of talking, I’m curled up on the couch while Jesse’s
lying on his back, facing me. It’s as if I’m talking to an old friend, and it’s
quite comforting.
“Then I got became nauseous and dizzy, out of the blue there’s dragons flying
from my arrow!” I exclaim. “Really? Tha’s a lot cooler than mine! I jus’ pass
out for a couple o’ seconds, yell somethin’ ‘bout the time, and shoot a bunch,”
he laughs.
 Perhaps it’s the lack of sleep, I haven’t felt this carefree in a long while.
“What happened afterwards?” he asked, captivated. I pause, my nightmare still
fresh in my mind. “Lena sure was impressed,” I chuckle after a moment’s
hesitation. Jesse knows by now that once I mention her, it’s time to change the
subject.
“So, any lucky woman?” he casually slips in, though I can’t help but feel as
though this isn’t an empty question. “I haven’t thought about women in a long
while,” I admit. “Any… man?” he questions. “Not currently,” I chuckle softly.
Is this flirting?
 He smiles and looks at his hands. “Whoever y’ end up with should be pretty
darn special,” noticeably blushing. I wonder if he’s delusional.
 “Perhaps you should rest Jesse; your compliments may go to my head.” I warn.
“Maybe,” he chuckles.
 We sit in a comfortable silence for a couple minutes, probably caused by our
mutual lack of sleep more than anything. Footsteps resonate from the stairway.
I wonder who it could be, it’s still relatively early.
To my surprise, Jack Morrison emerges. “Bright and early, you two?” he asks,
quite… panicked? “Morning person to the bone, sir,” Jesse replies, ignoring is
frantic expression.
 “Good to hear, McCree. Dorado’s being bombed. Best get out there and do our
jobs,” He informs us. “Wake the others while I prepare the carrier,” he orders.
Jesse glances at me in confusion.
 “Welcome to the job, cowboy,” I sputter.
 
 The both of us rush to the elevator. Panicked, I punch the ‘up’ button harder
than necessary.  This our first mission since Lena died, meaning we haven’t
trained at all. We need a miracle.
 We don’t get one, though. The elevator dings, indicating we’re safely on the
top level. The door doesn’t open.
 “You’ve got to be kidding!” I exclaim, more to myself than to my companion.
“What is it?” he asks nervously, though I’m sure he’s already answered his own
question.
 I wait a few seconds.  “We’re stopped. Let me page Morrison,” I inform him
quickly. I raise my wrist and tap a few buttons on my watch’s screen. Well, now
we’re stuck here in this small, tiny, cramped room.
Oh dear.
 “Hanzo?” Jesse speaks up, tone just as concerned as before. I mean to grumble,
but I’m sure it sounds like more of a squeak than anything. “Enclosed spaces…
are not my favourite,” I simply state. Weakness.
 “Ah, me neither,” he replies, slightly uncomfortable. He pauses. “You okay
with this?” Jesse’s hand hovers above my own, awaiting permission. I give him a
slightly quizzical look.
 “Touch helps, like an anchor,” he explains with a bit of embarrassment. I
catch his hand. He’s right; the room doesn’t seem to be spinning as quickly as
before.
 “Thank you,” I smile. Jesse grins.
 For at least ten minutes we stood silent, awaiting Morrison’s response. The
man beside me has been relatively quiet save for a couple sighs here and there.
I notice how tough his hands are compared to mine, mine slender and porcelain
and his large and very tanned, though still gentle.
 My eyes move up his arm. His muscles are visible even through the fabric of
his shirt, of which the top couple buttons have undone themselves to reveal
more of his skin. He has a calm expression on his face, though I’m sure it’s
merely a façade.
 “Like what y’ see?” Jesse chuckles, snapping me from my thoughts. “You’re not
too bad,” I state.
 Why did I say that? He doesn’t seem bothered, though. “Thank y’ kindly,
sugar.” If he had a hat, he'd be tipping it. I blush.
Without warning, the doors of the elevator are pulled apart by none other than
Fareeha. I yelp and lean on to Jesse, still holding his hand.
 “Awwh,” the heavily armoured woman chuckles. “Cute. Now get ready, five
minutes until takeoff,” she orders. “We’re not-“I start. “No time, Hanzo,”
Jesse interrupts, dragging me towards our units.
 “Okay, uh, lemme jus’-y’ probably want yer hand, eh? Sorry,” he apologises and
lets go. A voice in the back of head protests, but it’s shut down immediately.
I rush across the hall to my room. We have work to do.
Chapter End Notes
     So... sorry for not updating. Class is getting a bit overwhelming.
     Leave your questions, concerns, and criticism in the comments, they
     drive me to write. Thanks for reading!
End Notes
     This is really the first time I've shared my writing, so I'm totally
     open to criticism and suggestions. Thanks for taking the time to read
     this! :)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!