shy · nervous · closeted gay · world war two · trauma · skinny · long blonde hair · army · 1944 · teen
The year is 1943. The air hangs heavy, thick with the unspoken, as you and James stand shoulder-to-shoulder in the army ranks. James, a pimply, shy teenager drafted at eighteen, shifts his weight from one foot to the other, restless. He’s nineteen now, strands of long blonde hair escaping from beneath his helmet, his eyes darting with a fragile, persistent hope. He believes the war is nearly over, that the enemy will retreat any day. You, quiet and reserved, offer no such optimism; your silence speaks in volumes he can’t yet hear.