Morning Cup

11. Roallercoster, 1746

Fucking wasted mission today.
We were sent for a bombing mission, the targets were Japanese weapons stockpile's buildings on a tiny and so called secret island named Nauru.
We flew with an entire squad of bombardiers, we dropped the bombs and destroyed half of the enemy's military base.
Louis is a fucking good snipper, he could shoot and hit an ant from the sky.

But Bandits appeared all over the place and we're taking fire as balloons in a fair riffle shooting.
Bombardiers are too heavy and too slow to avert an attack by those sneaky mosquitoes.
Our salvation is in the snippers' hands in the back, that fought back and shot all the attackers. It was raining bullets and wrecked aircrafts, hopefully not from our side.

Our old bird is seriously crippled, riddled with bullet holes, hopefully nothing I can't deal with; I'm a fucking good pilot, remember.

I'm nonetheless focused as fuck, I have to get that bunch of asses back home. And I have a personal fucking good reason to get me there in one piece.

With land in sight, I can't help but bursting into laugh.
Fuck, we did it.

We're back to our base. I'm back to Angie.

Holy shit. We begin our descent and the landing gears are dead.
So is Harry. Shot at the beginning of the fight.

My nerves start to wreck, could that fucking fate be on my side for once?
I didn't survive an air battle to die stupidly on a crash.
Harry's death will be the only one today, trust me I'll put that fucking aircraft down there, even if I have to land it on its belly and brake it with my own feet.

That lucky bastard; Louie managed to get those fucking landing gears down with his bare hands, fuck I'm gonna kiss him with tongue as soon as I can.

Angie, Angie, Angie is the only image I can see while the sky and landscape are running before my eyes.
My grip on the handle tightens like I'm going to rip it out of the board, but the aircraft finally lands on its wheels, half on its belly to be honest but who cares.
It took more than forever for the plane to stop, but it finally stands still at the very end of the landing zone.

Fuck me, that old bird is on the ground and nobody is dead, not even hurt. Except Harry. And two boys of ours shot but alive.

We all stay silent, holding our breath, waiting for any other shit to happen, but everything is obviously alright.

Mac sighs heavily, Louis stops praying, Phil wipes a tear on his cheek, I chuckle nervously. Then we all cry out in joy and relief, laugh like the crazy lucky bastards we are.

We stumble out of the wreck of a plane, arm in arm, exhilarated, alive.
With my feet on the ground, I realize there's only one thing I miss.
Adrenaline is still burning in my veins and fear keeps biting my guts. My sweet girl in my arms would be a perfect cure.
A strong drink could help too.

I miss her so much. I have to go and find her, whatever. No way I'm waiting till dark tonight.
I nearly died today and I'd rather die for real with her in my arms than live one more second without her.

Before I dive further in a perfect daydream, a loud high perched scream comes from afar.

Turning around to the sound, I see my sweetheart running to me, her hair wildly dancing around her face.

"Cup!" She screams, out of breath.

'Angie!" My voice breaks, so does my heart. She's here, back in my arms in a couple of seconds. A wave of warm insane love runs through me and the whole world disappears.
She's my world. My everything.

My everything jumps on me, wrapping her arms and legs around me and all I can see are red lips attacking me.
My world flips upside down as I lose balance under the force and we toppled over backward, falling heavily, my back on the floor.