Richard "Rascal" Moore Memphis Belle Warning: None
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I delivered a harsh slap across Rascal's face, one so loud, the singers and dancers fell silent, looking to us. Rascal kept his face to the side, clenching his jaw. I could already see the blood rushing to the handprint I planted. I turned my back, storming off, and stepping around Virgil, who tried to ask me what was wrong. I stormed outside of the party, and went to the planes, getting out a cigarette and lighting it with a shaky hand.
That idiot.
I knew he had been a part of the crew, famous for being aboard the Memphis Belle. I knew all of that, but I didn't know he was leaving again tomorrow. He didn't tell me. So why on Earth he decided that the middle of a party would be a good time, I don't know. I inhaled deeply, and blew the smoke curtly as I stood before the Memphis Belle. This plane had carried my boyfriend to and from 24 missions alive, and I was thankful. I looked at the ball turret, where he'd be stuffed up tomorrow, and I felt my eyes water up.
"Awh, shit, where'd she go?"
"I dunno! Look over- No I found her... You, uh... You go in back inside guys."
At the sound of his voice, I felt my blood boil. Soon enough, he was standing beside me silently. I loved when he wore that crisp, green uniform. It always tore at my heart, and he knew it. I refused to look at him, and I instead continued to stare at the large glass at the cockpit, looking at the seats.
"You wanna go in?" I kept my mouth shut, and he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, "Look, Y/N, I'm sorry... I should have told you earlier, but-"
I felt a hot tear make it's way down my cheek and looked to him, falling into his arms and hugging him tightly, "I don't want you to die Rascal! You can't! I can't lose you! You've already done 24 missions, why do you gotta do another?! It ain't right, him putting you boys out again! It just ain't right! You've already done your service for this country, so why can't he just-" I couldn't speak more, and I felt my throat burn.
He rested his head on my shoulder, hugging me back, "I know, doll, but I gotta. The guys need me. And I'm not gonna die, I just-... I'll be back before you know it. We all will."
I sniffed, pulling away and looking into his honeypot eyes, "What are we gonna do after the war, Rascal? After you come back?"
He laughed, and his smile tore at my heart, "Well, we can do whatever we want! We are not getting a farm. Or owning a restaurant, either."
"And we won't settle down, right?"
"Hell no! We're only eighteen! Settling down is for old people!"
I sighed, feeling his arms around me. I ran my fingers through his hair, "Please don't go tomorrow..."
"I have to."
"Please, don't... I can't stand it... I can't stand the thought of you, cooped up in that little bitty ball turret with fighter planes swooping around you... One good bullet and-"
"Hey, hey, hey, stop that. Look, it'll be fine. It's not like they'll send us over to bomb a factory in Germany or anything. We'll probably just run on over to France for a territory-check. Probably just something routine like that. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone."
"And then what?"
He pulled away from me, taking my left hand into his, and kissing my knuckles, "And then we can get married."
We had been engaged for about a year now, and wanted to save the wedding for after the war. His folks and mine knew we were together, but they never got word of our engagement, seeing as they thought 18 was too young to get married.
I sighed, holding his hand sweetly and looking back to the plane. I looked to him, and asked him to take off his dog tags. He did so, and I unhooked the chain, sliding my engagement ring on it. I put it back around his neck, and clasped the dog tags in my hands, "This ring has brought me happiness I didn't know I could have. It's my prized possession, alright?" I smiled, pecking his lips sweetly, "Now you have to bring it back."
He smiled and put his hands over mine, kissing them again, "Oh, I will. Trust me."
"I love you."
"I love you too. Now come on, we have a dance to continue."
