Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT FOUR - PART TWENTY-TWO

Here we go again. I hope you enjoy it. Cheers!

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"What are you doing?" Grace wondered. She had been in the middle of telling him about class the other day and about how much she delighted in how done Elrond was with their students most of the time, having to explain that flying in sync wasn't a tactic put just fucking extra. Now that she was in a private setting and alone with Bradley at that, she could laugh about it and comment that her father and his wingman have been flying in sync as well just to fucking annoy Slider. Only for Bradley to tell her that if that was the case, he now understood why Slider mumbled under his breath something about history repeating himself after he had seen Bradley and Grace fly in total sync too.

It had Grace laughing softly. Sitting on top of the blanket, her legs crossed underneath her, and Bradley's dress shirt pulled over her body, even the buttons were closed, while Bradley was pounding beneath the silky blanket, stretched out, his arms behind his head, while he was holding Grace's hand with the other free one, as long as she didn't need it to gesture around, which she only did when she was excited or telling a story animatedly.

Bradley had used the hand Grace had just let go of to reach for his phone that was resting on the bedside table next to the burning down candle, before he unlocked it, and directed it towards Grace, while she was telling enthusiastically a story about the last hop she had shared with Elrond, Fox and Gunny, shooting their asses out of the sky before they were even sure where she was.

"I snapped a picture." Bradley answered with a shrug, while lowering his phone, only for Grace to move over and flop down on top of the blanket next to Bradley, so she could look what he was doing on his phone.

"I saw that, my question is why?" She pointed out, her elbow pushed into the mattress, only to support her chin in her hand, to keep her head up.

"Just because." Her husband allowed with a nod.

"Let me see." The younger aviator said, only for Bradley to turn the phone to let her see the screen. Other than expected, she didn't tell him to delete the picture, or to stop snapping pictures of her altogether. Grace seemed kind of in thoughts.

"That's how I look when I talk?" She wondered, her voice so neutral, Bradley couldn't guess in what mood she was.

"I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm proud, but I just love when you talk about something you're passionate about. You might not be looking right at the camera, but I know your eyes are shining." He told her lovingly, which caused a small smile to bloom on her lips, but there was something else behind it still, something was bothering about the picture taken.

"I look like the wife that dies in the first five minutes of the movie." Grace added unimpressed suddenly, but she had taken the phone from Bradley's fingers, letting her eyes wander over the picture.

The younger Kazansky as the older one was always fascinated about pictures. Her father used to collect pictures and hang them up on the walls which is why the walls in their family home is rather artfully decorated of bygone years. He even took a camera with him as he was going on deployment as he was younger. His very first one is documented rather well and even though he did make videos and pictures later on, nothing compared to that first deployment. Well, apart from the pictures which were taken at home of course. There were so many children pictures of Bradley and Grace, one could only guess the colour the walls in the corridor have beneath.

"Don't say that." Bradley told her, while snatching his phone form her hands, before putting it back down on the bedside table, before facing his wife. "I intend to spend decades with you."