Dog Days

Chapter 97

After a few hours of scrolling through boring, repetitive, men's rings, I stumble across one that's a white gold ring with beautiful braids and veins as the design. Green diamond litter the band, as if they were flower blossoms.

The only problem is, I have no idea what his ring size is.

I ended up going through the jewelry in his dresser to find a couple rings.

As I try to find out what size they are, The Grandmaster walks by and glances up from his tablet, only to freeze and back step to the door. He opens the door and pokes his head in "What are you doing? Are you looking for something?"

I take a deep breath and look down at the rings "I'm just trying to figure out his ring size."

He gives me a short nod, before he states "Eleven and a half is the best fit. It runs slightly snug, but it settles with time. Twelve would slip off his finger."

I give him a short nod, before he asks "You intend to propose?"

I sigh as I cross over to the bed and take a seat "It's a way to show him that I'm always going to be there for him. I want to be with him until we're old and grey. I want a life with him."

He gives me a short nod, before he asks "How was the therapy session?" I cock an eyebrow to him and he gives me a gentle smile "You're taking care of yourself. Im genuinely asking."

I take a deep breath and state "It was alright. We're changing some things to make it easier."

He gives me a soft smile "Good. If it helps, then that's great." He motions on with his tablet "I'm going to head up and start the motions for next week. If you need anything, ask Jarvis to inform me. Try to get some rest and readjust to the meds."

I furrow my brow and remark "I can't tell if you're being an ass, or not."

He scoffs, before declaring "I go to a therapist, twice a week. You work in our line our line of duty, eventually it catches up to you."

He gives me a tired smile and states "I was a marine. I did four years. I wasn't special or anything. Only ever got up to Corporal." He gives me a knowing look "But I saw some shit. Even after forty years, I still remember every detail."

He stands there for a moment, before he scoffs "A lot of people died for me to stay alive. Far better people than me." He gives me a saddened look, before he states "I still feel guilty for what happened to them. I feel guilty about a lot of things."

I take a deep breath and ask "You know what happened to me?"

He gives me a short nod, before declaring "The report said that the shrapnel pierced your shoulder and lacerated your eye. You were teaching your platoon survival skills in the middle of camp. Your people said that you were showing them edible plants and how to start a fire with nothing. Educational, and necessary for their survival. They said, themselves, that you were always a great teacher."

I take a deep breath and sit up, only to pull off my shirt. The scar, which runs down my shoulder, down around my armpit, and they had to elongate the incision, halfway to my sternum.

He looks at me in shock, before I reach out and pull out the brown prosthetic eye lense. When I place it on the nightstand, I declare "I wasn't supposed to be there."

I take a deep breath and explain "We were supposed to go up to the sniper mound. It overlooks the camp, but we really only used it for practice, because we were in the middle of the desert. We were supposed to be armed, with the high ground, but I decided that my guys needed a day to think. It was the day after Sif died, and I wanted to give them the time to process it."