"Here.", he held out another bottle of water to you.

This time you refused.

Your head still hurt and a trace of nausea slowly spread in your mouth. Still, you had no desire to drink anything. Instead, you wanted to get out.

The car felt like a cage, the walls seemed to get closer and closer and everything felt so tight. An oppressive feeling squeezed your chest and made it hard to breathe.

Harshly, you reached out for your neck, trying to loosen the collar of the black turtleneck.

He noticed the sudden nervousness. His hand cautiously reached out to you, but hesitated when you noticed the movement in the corner of your eye and flinched. His expression changed.

For a moment, he watched you.

The feeling of his eyes roaming over your body was less familiar at that moment. You felt like you were being interrogated, even though he didn't speak a word.

"You need to drink something.", again he wanted to give you the bottle, but you shook your head.

"I'd rather you stop treating me like a scared child.", you laughed but he noticed it wasn't the same as usual.

With his lips pressed together, he stopped himself from forcing you to drink something and threw the bottle back on the back seat.

The water sloshed in its plastic prison.

The sound was enough to drive your strained nerves to the brink of madness. The car suddenly felt like a prison.

Your hand reached out for the door handle, but he was faster, grabbing your fingers and enclosing them in his hand.

He was still wearing the black leather gloves, but you thought you could feel a hint of his warmth through them.

"(Y/N).", his voice was calm, but he could hear the concern in his own words.

Damn, when had he gotten so soft for you?

Actually, he just wanted you to calm down so he could work better. But for some reason, the sight of you made him nervous himself. Usually this never happened to him.

His whole team could go crazy and Chris always kept his cool, but the sight of you made him feel something he couldn't explain.

He was uneasy.

Maybe even worried.

With a sarcastic grin on your lips, you raised an eyebrow and wiggled your free hand in front of his face.

"Earth to Redfield.", you purred. "What is it? Cat got your tongue or why do you look so disturbed?"

His eyes moved up to your face, cool winter green mingling with yours (E/C).

He swallowed hard.

For a moment his heart beat faster. Then he closed his eyes briefly, shook his head, and put his thoughts back in order.

When he opened his eyes again, he was Captain Chris Redfield, the soldier.

"You're too nervous.", he said, and let go of your hand.

For some reason, his fingers twitched briefly, as if they were trying to reach for you again on their own, before he hid his hands between his legs.

You couldn't see them there. He didn't want you to think he was strange.

It was silent for a moment before you tried to laugh.

"Are you afraid I'll get in your way?", you asked, resting your head on your hand while your elbow leaned against the window.

He pulled a face as if he were full of pain and finally sighed.

"Don't talk nonsense.", his hand reached into his pants pocket, fished for the pack of cigarettes.

Disgusted by what was to come, you curled your lips, crunching your nose and opened the door. Icy cold wind hit your face as you stretched a foot out of the car.

"Hey, where are you going?", he tried to reach for you, but you dodged his hand.

You were afraid of his touch.

You were afraid that he would turn into a monster again.

Your mind was versatile when it came to nightmares, this scenario could also be just a dream that felt way too real again.

"Relax.", you grinned and threw your head back so that the cold air could caress your whole face. "I just want to breathe some fresh air."

He nodded, but didn't seem entirely convinced.

The click of the lighter sounded and you wondered how many cigarettes he needed a day to keep his battered nerves calm. Maybe they worked like a wonder. Smoking seemed like a better coping mechanisms than drinking though.

He took a deep breath, the smoke scratching his lungs briefly before he breathed it all out again, filling the inside of the car with a thick cloud.

Your eyes watched the smoke as it twitched and danced in the air. As it did, the long strands stroked Chris's skin, messy beard and short hair.

He was really good looking, you thought.

"Shit.", you mumbled, angry that your feelings were making a fool out of you the way your mind did.

From the corner of his eyes, he glanced at you.

"Said something?", he asked.

"No. Just thinking out loud."

He took another deep breath.

"Speak up then. I can read your mind but even I have my limits."

You snorted, actually amused.

"You think quite full of yourself, Redfield."

He smiled briefly, glancing at you again.

"Only when it's with you.", he said, leaning towards the open door. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

You twitched, your eyes wandered away from the dark star sky and back to him. As you met his eyes, your heart jumped and you felt how heat traveled up to your face.

"Sure.", you mumbled.

"The dream you've had. What was it about?"

You swallowed thickly.

For a moment, silent spread between you two.

Desperately, your mind was searching for an answer that didn't seem like the one of a total maniac.

"Things...", you choked on the rest of the sentence. "Terrible things..."

He frowned. Suddenly, Chris seemed sad.

Confused, you looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Why do you look so disappointed?", you asked.

He thought for a moment.

"You said my name.", he finally said, not being able to hide a very thin, soft smile. "I hoped it wasn't me who is the reason for your suffering."