So maybe if he just... grabbed a chair. Acted normal. Proved they could exist in the same room without it being athing.
Completely absorbed, Shaw turned a page every other minute. Hudson could leave him alone. Probably should. But that would be so unlike him.
He moved to his side.
"Shaw." Hudson leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the cover. "What're you reading?"
Shaw shifted the book slightly, angling it away. "A book."
"I got that, genius. What book?"
"Does it matter?"
“Yeah, it does. You're being weird about it." Hudsonreached for it.
Shaw pulled it back waytoo fast.
"Oh, now Ihaveto see it."
"Hale—"
Hudson lunged for it.
Shaw twisted away, protecting the book with his good hand while trying to keep Hudson at bay with the wrapped one. It didn't work. Hudson moved faster, a little reckless, and he managed to get his fingers on the spine.
“Come on.” Hudson laughed.
"No."
They grappled, half-standing, as Shaw's chair scraped backward. Hudson got a better grip and pulled, using his weight for an advantage, but Shaw refused to budge.
For a second they stilled, both gripping the book between them. Shaw's shoulders bunched under his shirt, every muscle in his neck pulled taut with determination. Their faces were inches apart, both grinning like morons.
A grinning Shaw was so off-brand that Hudson nearly forgot what they were fighting over.
Then he yanked harder and the book came free. He stumbled back, holding it up like a trophy.
Shaw glared at him with an intensity that was probably supposed to be intimidating. Hudson raised his eyebrows.The Art of Warby Sun Tzu. "Seriously?"
Oh, if looks could kill.
"Give it back,” Shaw said.
"You're reading military strategy? For fun?"
"It's not for fun."
"Then what's it for?"
Shaw crossed his arms, careful with his wrapped hand. "Understanding."
Flipping through a few pages, Hudson scanned the text. The spine was cracked with wear, pages dog-eared, notes filling the margins in Shaw's precise handwriting. "You know we're already in the military, right? This feels a little overkill."
"Give. It. Back."
Hudson held it out of reach, smirking. “Nah.”
Shaw closed the distance fast, reaching for the book. Hudson dodged, laughing, keeping it just out of reach. Shaw followed, and suddenly they were moving around the clunky worn-down furniture like idiots—Hudson holding the book high; Shaw trying to grab it without hurting his hand.
