He received an eye roll in return. “Fine. Rule Number 2. No winking. Ever.”
“Really? That’s what’s a problem for you?” Clara leaned across the hall and swiped the bottle from him, “Rule 3. You can’t look at me like I’m someone who’s hurt you.”
“I don’t look at you like that!”
Carver raised his hands, “I didn’t say you have, I’m saying you can’t moving forward. Who knows what the next couple weeks will bring out of us, and we both know we can’t afford any distraction.”
It killed him to call her a distraction, and though she quickly masked it, he didn’t miss the look of hurt that crossed her face. It’s how he had explained being better off without her after they received their operatives assignments. He had told her she was a distraction he couldn’t afford. Belittling their relationship to that of a mutual benefit. Not love. He couldn’t admit how much he loved her. So he told her she was a distraction. A stupid distraction as he was crawling his way to the top.
“Rule 4,” her tone was colder again, her walls erecting in spite of the alcohol in her system, “No matter what the circumstances, you cannot go out of your way to defend or protect me beyond what you would do for a normal comrade.”
“That’s a long rule. But I agree, though that one should go for both of us.” He leaned back pressing his head against the wall, watching her carefully as he formulated the next rule. “Rule 5. We don’t discuss the past.”
“I agree with that one,” Clara said slowly. She paused and he waited for her to continue, “Honestly, I feel like we should summarize these rules a little more professionally. Most of the ones we’ve created wouldn’t work as actual rules.”
“What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Do you have paper? Let’s write it down.”
He didn’t, but he volunteered to retrieve some from his room, leaving the bottle with her as he jogged away. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but he needed a second to compose himself without her eyes on him. The years must have been brutal for her. She no longer had the sparkle in her eyes he loved. She didn’t smile. She had maintained an aspect of femininity throughout her basic training, now even that was gone. The bodycon outfits designed for movement no longer covered a curvaceous body.
His heart ached as he imagined what she had been through. He thought he was protecting her by pushing her away, forcing her to become her own person to survive, but in doing that it seemed he had indirectly destroyed who she was. He could never forgive himself for that, but he could at least keep her alive now.
He grabbed a notebook and pen from his room and rushed back. His head felt a little fuzzy, and if he didn’t wrap the conversation up soon, he would admit something that would only be harmful in the light of day. He had hurt her enough. He wouldn’t do that to her.
Better she believe the lies he spewed three years ago. Apologies would not make things better now, so best to just move forward.
He handed her the notebook without comment, ignoring the pinkish tint the alcohol had brought to her cheeks. She opened the journal, and a folded piece of paper fell into her lap. She started to open it, but Carver panicked and said, “That’s not for you!”
He snatched it out of her hand, shoving it into his pocket. He didn’t apologize for his outburst, though he knew he should.
Like she had earlier, she chewed her lower lip, waiting for him to sit on his side of the hallway before she said anything. The page was the journal entry he had written earlier. He tore it out to burn it, but got distracted and left it in the book. It was all of the thoughts he had about her. She could never see and never know.
“I think if we do this, they should legitimately be rules of engagement. The rules should have more to do with our ability to complete the mission than…us.”
“Okay,” Carver answered softly, feeling guilty for yelling at her.
“Rule 1, the mission comes first.” She waited for him to respond, and when he nodded, she added the first rule to the book.
“Rule 2, no flirting.”
“With each other,” Clara added.
Carver shook his head, “No. No flirting with anyone. Each other or anyone else. The mission will go better if we agree that flirting won’t be a part of the trip in any way.”
She silently weighed the idea before nodding and writing the second rule.
“Rule 3, no physical contact.”
“That’s a given,” Carver interjected.
“Still making it a rule.”
He scoffed but didn’t comment waiting for her to finish writing. Once she looked up he said, “Rule 4, no mention of our history–like we talked about earlier.”
“Yeah.” That rule was as much for him as her. If she asked him why he had ended things the way he had, the truth might come out. He had done too much to her already; he didn’t want to add that to the list. “Rule 5,” her eyes snapped up tohis, daring him to challenge what she was about to say, “No defending the other person beyond what is necessary for the mission.”
He felt his heart sink a little. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he would do whatever it took to keep her alive. But she was asking him not to. She held his gaze, her eyes hard, waiting for him to agree. He knew he had to, so he nodded yes. Relief washed across her face and she wrote the rule. She certainly was determined to fulfill this assignment.
