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𝐀𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
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ANNE POV
The dawn came slow, gray, and quiet. A thin mist hung over the airfield, the world muted by it — the engines, the footsteps, even the sound of the wind.
I stood by the window of my quarters, still in my undershirt and slacks, the coffee in my hand long gone cold. Out on the runway, the first crews were already moving. Men called to each other through the fog, their voices low, steady — a kind of music I'd learned by heart.
Something in me softened at the sight.
They looked the same as they always had — jackets half-zipped, boots dusty, laughter still easy even after everything. But to me, everything felt different.
Love had changed the color of the war. The same sky that used to feel endless now seemed fragile, thin enough to tear. Every mission brief sounded less like strategy and more like borrowed time.
I pressed a hand against the windowpane, feeling the cold seep through the glass.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," I said.
It was Egan. His cap was tucked under his arm, his uniform immaculate despite the wear of the last few days. He gave me that quiet, knowing look — the one that always seemed to see more than I said.
"You're up early," he said.
"I didn't sleep much," I admitted.
He nodded, stepping closer. "Neither did he."
My eyes flicked past him toward the field. Egan was pacing now, talking with his crew, his energy boundless even through the ache of injury.
