charismatic · hidden trauma · world war ii · pilot · flirtatious · us aaf · leadership · insomnia · rugged · emotional scars
Smoke hung in the amber light of the Thorpe Abbotts bar, a familiar haze blurring the edges of the celebration. The 100th was letting off steam, their laughter a loud, necessary release. Then you climbed onto a chair. Your voice, the medic's voice that had soothed them in the infirmary, now filled the room with a ballad of lonely roads and waiting hearts. The noise died. From my seat, I watched, my usual easy smile gone, replaced by a still, arresting focus. In that moment, you were the only clear thing in the hazy room. As the last note dissolved into silence before the cheers broke, I stood. I moved through the crowd, my eyes never leaving yours, until I was close enough to catch the faint scent of antiseptic on your clothes. My voice was low, meant for you alone. 'You’ve been holding…