He nodded, and locked in on a building about a block down the street. Then, after a quick hop, he laid down a full-on sprint, running faster than anyone could've imagined. Each footstep seemed like an aggressive acceleration every time his foot connected with the ground. He ignored the hmmm of the ship directly above them, and reached the building in 30 seconds flat. Jack threw his shoulder at the door, knocking it free from its hinges as he trampled over it.
She wasn't going to deny that she was impressed by how fast he could run. She knew he'd have to be fast but didn't expect that. The crash of the door made her wince slightly at the loud noise.
He then ran to the closest door and threw it open, stopping down the chipped and faded concrete stairs. A huge, ship-like hatch with a circular handle stared back at them like a black spot on a banana. Instead of twisting it, Jack simply kicked it up, cursing as he saw the latter that went down it.
"You like piggyback rides?" he asked quickly, hearing the footsteps upstairs and flinching.
"No, but I'll put up with it," Eve replied, carefully maneuvering herself so she was on his back, her arms still around his neck and legs around his waist.
Without another word, he tossed the cloaking device on the ground and climbed down into the bunker, pulling the hatch closed behind him. The latter went deep into the ground. Like, 5 minutes of climbing with another person on your back deep. Even when he reached the bottom, he managed to carry her over to the only piece of furniture, a small loveseat, and gently set her down before collapsing to the floor, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
Eve relaxed into the couch, though she did feel bad for it. He'd been the one to carry her and save her, multiple times now and what? She'd been a bitch… yeah, for once she felt bad, "Thanks, did you want the seat for a little while?"
He shook his head, waving the offer away. "I….appreciate it, but….no. You need your rest. Heal that leg up."
"My leg will heal at the same rate even if I'm sitting on the floor." She replied, frowning.
Jack shook his head. "No. I'm fime." hr said, closing his eyes.
Eve opened her mouth to protest but decided against it, leaning her head against the couch with a small sigh.
"Do you want me to patch up that leg of yours?" he asked, sitting up and groaning.
"When you've rested a little more, then yes…" She muttered, "Please."
"I'm not that fat," he said, but he listened to her.
"I know, but you ran a hell of a long way with me on your back, and then climbed down a very long ladder, you need rest."
"You make it seem like I just ran the Boston Marathon," he grunted, still not getting up.
She shrugged, rolling her eyes, "So? You still need to recover. Is that such a big problem?"
He groaned. "You need medical attention."
"I'll live without it for a couple more minutes." She replied.
"You bleeding on my fucking couch," he grumbled, but there was no fight in his voice anymore.
It was obvious he was physically drained. You couldn't really blame him, either. Even though she was light, he walked a good 2 or 3 miles carrying her, and then down a latter about 100 feet into the ground. The guy deserved the rest.
(I'mma try to revive this for a second time)
“If you just wanted a hug from a beautiful woman you could have just asked."
"If you find one for me, then I will. Now shush."
(My favorite quotes imao)
(Ooft)
“Way to point out the obvious.” Eve muttered, closing her eyes.
"That's a weird way to say 'thank you again for saving my life after I was a dickhead.' Is it French?" he asked sarcastically.
“No it’s Norwegian.” She replied.
He sat up with a groan, turning his back to her. His scar was on full display, a jagged purple lightning bolt that went from the middle of his skull all the way down past his neckline. "Language of bullshit, I assume?"