Sealed With Ink

Nineteen

Celestia, you are my person, forever and always...
20 July 1945

Leste, that day... It was the best and worst day of my life. I saw everything I had flash before me as you stumbled, your arm gleaming red. I could hardly think as I patched you up. I was so ready to kill every single Natzi that had sent that bomb. Hell, I was ready to kill Hitler, if he was the one who had given the order. But he wouldn't have. No important person would have wasted their time bombing a British training camp. So, why were we bombed? I still haven't figured that out, and something tells me I never will.

Despite being in your arms, the ghost of your lips on mine, that's all that was running through my mind that day. Why, why, why? It didn't make any sense, Leste. It still doesn't, almost a year later. Not that understanding would change anything, not that it matters. We don't really matter in this war.

I remember laying in your arms for hours, Leste. I held you, and you held me. I remember the feeling of your fingers in my hair; I can't wait to feel that again. I remember how much you protested when I pulled out of your arms to go get us bowls of soup that they were passing out. And I couldn't help but watch your lips as I fed it to you, insisting that you shouldn't use your arm. I was right, of course, no matter how overbearing you thought I was. I know you enjoyed sitting there, letting me take care of you. And I will, Leste, take care of you for the rest of my days.

I slept in your arms, that night, do you remember? You held me on your left side as I kissed your neck, just as I had been dreaming about for the past months, Leste.

"We are so..."

"What?" you asked.

"Dumb," I laughed into your neck. I felt your beautiful laugh run through your body. "It took getting bombed for me to finally have the courage to kiss you," I said, pulling your face down to mine for another kiss. You smiled against my lips. I wanted to freeze time. I wanted to stay pressed against you forever. I had never felt so full, Leste.

"If it makes you feel any better, darling, I didn't make a move either."

"Yes you did," I said, tracing your beautiful lips with my finger. I swear, my love, there are not enough words to describe how consumed I was--am--by you. "I was just too stubborn."

"It's all in the right time, my love," you whispered, kissing my forehead. My heart absolutely and positively stopped at that, at the words you said to me. I remember simply pulling your body closer to mine, and resting my head on your shoulder. I could smell your sweetness as you rested your head atop mine, despite the overwhelming smell of death around us. Everything was as it should be, right until that moment.

Until the world decided to go to shit again.

***

I snuck out of your arms the next morning, cringing at the cold. I hadn't slept that well in so long, or that warm.

The camp was in ashes. Most of the building had been demolished, and anything that has been left standing burned to the ground. The courtyard wall filled with debris: pieces of wood, metal, clothes and personal belongings, and blood. There was so much blood, Leste, stained everywhere. Even the small piles of snow were stained red. The ground looked as if it was bleeding. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and made myself march to where the others were standing.

Lieutenant Avery stood atop a crate, his left arm bandaged and in a sling. The men around me all looked like shit; I suppose I did, too.

"We'll be moving out tomorrow morning. Lieutenant Williams sent word this morning: whatever men we have left are to join his tour. This camp has been compromised, and you pretty ladies aren't helping anyone by sitting on your asses." The whole of the camp grumbled at that. "We ride out tomorrow at dawn. The trucks are coming in tonight. Anyone who isn't on a truck before sunrise will be left behind."