Point of Interest Fan Fiction (Root x Shaw)

Note: Sameen Shaw POV

A stone ruined our climbing plan.

I didn’t agree with Root when she first came up with the hiking and climbing plan to some deep forests. One thing is Montana’s so-called ‘park’ is nothing like the park in New York, where I don’t want to go halfway being chased by a bear or wolves. The second is that Root is still in rehabilitation, and her condition is not suitable for hiking. Third, food… How can the picnic at the lakeside be compared with sitting in a fine steakhouse?

But anyway, I knew I was unable to dissuade Root, so finally, I just flew across half of the United States with her, rented an old local car, bumped for a few hours and drove to the cabin that The Machine helped us booked.

The place was very small with simple furniture, the air was filled with the musty smell of wood, there was also a layer of thick dust falling on the bed. I cleaned it up right away so that next day morning I could distinguish the redness between which is a scratch, and which is caused by the allergy.

Root was running in the forest like a child, I almost doubted that she has never climbed the mountain before, after all, she sat in front of the computer for longer hours than half of the Americans. She was leading the way happily, while I couldn’t stop being aware of the danger, whether it was a wild animal or something else. This place was not protected by The Machine. Everything depends on our eyes.

But I’ve never thought that a most common stone was the chief culprit.

When Root yelled with pain, I instinctively touched the inside of my coat, where I used to place my gun. But this time I haven’t even touched a cartridge except for some matches.
The fact that Root can always find a way to get injured is never changed, the same as my custom to check her wounds while rolling eyes. Root’s ankle got a little swollen, but not a big problem, should be alright with ice or cold towel compressed in a few days.
I came close to her right ear, complaining to the guy inside: “You should not give her a house in this ghost place, the interface cannot be too spoiled.”
“I’m imitating your behavior, chief executive Shaw.” The Machine answered instantly. It took me two seconds to realize that was actually Root speaking.

I frowned, but Root snickered.

“Come on.” I straightened up and spoke to her in a serious tone, “I don’t like you and her… It, I don’t like you to imitate each other.”

Root tilted her head a bit and pouted, like every time she noticed that I am truly not happy, and I am just so damn buying it. But for this matter, I do not want to compromise, I hate the feeling of ‘identify obstacles’ the most, and Root knows this better than anyone else.

“I’m serious.” I raised my voice a little, to make sure they both heard it.

“Aye, captain.” Root shook her knee. She forgot that my hand was still holding her ankle, and it successfully hurt her again.

I looked at her with a grouse, loosened her shoelaces and put down her trousers.

“I’m tired, Sameen.” She sucked her nose, revealing an aggrieved but naughty smile, “Would you mind carrying me back?”

Of course I wouldn’t mind, I was even a bit expecting it. I turned around and bent down, she pressed my shoulder and almost jumped on my back, with her legs clenching my waist tightly. I grabbed the back of her knee, making sure she would not slide down before I straightened up.
This is not the first time I carry her. A few years ago I knocked her out in the sewer tunnel. I wasted a lot of efforts to put her back to the car and went back to the library. I was too tired to wonder where this hacker hid her fat, she must be not that light as her look.

But of course, sober Root feel much ‘lighter’ than the fainted root. She put all the weight on my back, the height gap even made you feel a bit off-balance. I had to try not walking like a drunk person.

“Am I too heavy, Sameen?” She leaned against my shoulders, with her arms wrapping tightly around my neck.

“Just like the carry the main unit of The Machine.” Talking made my breath a bit unstable.

“I like your metaphor, sweetie.”

——-To be continued——-

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