Soldier Boy

16

*No Perspective*

"So." She sighs, looking around for something to say. This was the second time they talked in her apartment, still not knowing much about each other. She was worried, not really sure what to be worried about. Maybe because the last time they were together in her apartment, things got heated. She didn't want him to hate her. Not yet.

"Where'd you learn to fight?" He was dying to know, still racking his brain from what happened earlier in the market.

"Uhm," She scratched her neck, remembering parts of herself from long ago. "I knew from an early age, that there's no one better to keep me safe then myself. So I begged my mom to take me out of dance and piano lesson, and put me in self defense instead." She giggles to herself, picturing that concerned look in her mothers face.

"What made you think that?" He asked.

"Think what?"

"That no one could keep you safe." His voice was soft, hurt that she always thought she had to be the one to save herself, even from a young age.

"I don't know." She sighs, feeling what she felt all those years ago. "I've always felt, out of place. I wasn't into tech like Tony and my Father. And I surely didn't want to be my mother." Her laugh came out soft. Though she wasn't laughing because it was funny, she laughed realizing she got what she wanted. Or what she thought she needed.

"Why not?" She was opening up to him, making him shift forward, closer to her.

"She was sorta timid." Her head nods, remembering her mother. "She followed my father around, making appearances at dinner parties, being around other wives of rich men. I didn't want that life."

"What did you want?" He wanted to know her from the roots. Where it all started.

"I wanted to be independent, make a name for myself. I wasn't handed things like Tony. He was the golden boy, could do no wrong, at least not in my mothers eyes." Her giggle made his heart flutter a little.

"What about your father?" He knew Tony took after his father, in many ways then one. Was she the same?

"My father was different with Tony. They clashed a lot, never really seeing eye to eye on things." He nods, understanding what she meant. Her and Tony did the same. "I think my father is part of the reason I am who I am." Her eyes drift to her hands, running her thumb against her palms.

"How so?" He scoots half an inch closer, as if he was reading the pages of her story.

"He told me something that has always stuck with me." Her eyes slowly looked back at his. "Don't wait for the door to open. Kick it down." Such strong words for such a young child. "So that's what I did. And I became independent, like I wanted."

"And now?"

"I want to be respected, and acknowledged for my work." She smiles.

"Just your work?" His words made that smile drop.

"That's all I have, really." His eyes softened listening to her. The words felt like a stab to her chest, realizing that's all she really had. And he watched her face drop a little. She didn't know how much she had, not really."What about you?"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head.

"What did you want to be?" She wanted to know him too, starting at the roots.

"I don't remember." During his time, there wasn't options. He was a Brooklyn boy, scrounging for dimes and nickels where ever he could. "I remember that I needed to do something bigger than myself. And at the time, World War Two was happening, so I thought I'd start there." She felt pride bloom inside herself for him, leaning closer to the brave soldier in front of her.