Lovers in Arms

Part 1 - Voices

The heat in my cheeks reached a fever pitch the closer in proximity he got to me. He didn't need to be working directly with me for me to feel the effects of his presence. Always, I was aware when he would pass by me with a load of boxes or sandbags. My ears tuned in whenever I heard is calm, baritone voice joke casually with his buddies. I worked diligently at my own task, wishing he joked with me like that.

We had been on orders for 5 days now, helping with disaster relief in another state. Seeing his name on the volunteer list both excited me and made me anxious. He made me that way and I didn't like it. Having someone in your head like that. And yet...

"Phillips!" I started, jerked out of my daily, minute-by-minute overthinking session to his startlingly bright eyes staring at me, expecting. "Ah!!" I screamed sarcastically, playing off my own distraction.

"Are you okay? You seem out of it."

Ugh, what a guy. It was amazing how genuinely he always asked about my well-being. How can someone with such a crass sense of humor also be so sincerely considerate?

"Uh, yeah! I'm fine. Just thinking. What's up? What do you need?"

"No, don't worry about it, I'll ask someone else if you're busy." I know he meant this kindly, but I really didn't want him to ask someone else.

"No no, I'm serious, I'm fine! Ask!"

He regarded me with a face I can never seem to directly look at long enough to read.

"I just needed some help bringing this box inside."

Together, we lifted and brought the box of lights into the tent that was serving as our CP. I overthought the entire process. Am I carrying this well? Do I look tired? Does he think I'm strong? Wow, there's nobody in the tent here, this would be a great moment. Shut up, Abby, you're literally just putting a box in here and walking out. Quit making everything a thing.

This absolute avalanche of anxiety almost drowned out his second question.

"You sure you're alright? Your face is super red. Here, drink some water."

He handed me a bottle and I drank it in place of responding.

Suddenly, I realized my selfishness and added, "Are you okay? You've been working hard too, do you need me to get you anything?" I prayed he would say yes, and it would be something I could do. Whenever he asked me for a cigarette, I always promised to find him one and always failed. It bothered me I hadn't had a win in that department yet.

"Nah, I'm okay. I could do with a cigarette but you can never find me one when I ask." He smirked.

I masked my genuine agony with a dramatized physical representation of a shot through the art, ending in my final breath.

"You wound me! I always try, but I never seem to find any!" I sounded lame to my own ears, making excuses, but I needed him to know how willing I was to serve him. I still wasn't sure what it was about him that triggered that part of me.

"Yeah, yeah, excuses." He left the tent before I did, cutting yet another of our sparse interactions short. The rest of the day went by pleasantly enough. Working with my hands, sweating, and messing around with my fellow soldiers always helped quiet the mind. My odd love for physical labor always kept me out past the time most people thought we were done. I secretly hoped Valente would stay out late as well. It was a rare moment when I saw him without his friends, soldiers, or any of the usual persons that trailed him like ducklings.

My own duckling approached me, whining "Sergeanttttt, can we go back now?"

Choi really ought to develop some work ethic if she was going to survive the rest of her army career. But since she was my soldier, it looked like it was up to me to instill some in her. Just not tonight. "Yes, I think we're done for the night."