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HER EYES SQUINTED IN AN ATTEMPT TO SEE IN THE DARKNESS. The only thing helping her see was the light from Schofield and Blake's torches. Blake took lead while Schofield remained vigilant behind Mags. "So," Blake spoke from in front of the nurse, "you and Lieutenant Leslie, huh?"
"What are you insinuating, Blake?" Mags asked, a sharp tone overtaking her voice. This conversation could only end badly. Schofield watched from the back, a cringe overtaking his features. Something told him to stop his friend from doing anything stupid, but he knew the damage had already been done.
"I'm just saying," Blake shrugged his shoulders, a playful smirk on his lips, "you two seemed awfully close when we were about to hop on over."
"Ignore him." Schofield was quick to stop the conversation. Mags rolled her eyes, unbeknownst to the two men in her presence. As much as Blake and her argued, she couldn't help but admire the young man. He was ambitious, she'd give him that. Had he seen any real combat? His constant joking attitude told her that he hadn't. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Or maybe it was. She didn't have any actual combat experience either - didn't even know how to shoot a gun, if it came down to it.
They came upon a barracks inside the bunker. Her eyes widened at the size of the room and the sheer number of bunk beds it held. "Christ." Mags whispers as she runs her right index finger along one of the rusty bedframes.
"They built all this." Blake mumbles as they slowly walk through the room.
Mags glances back to see Schofield staring at a photograph pinned to one of the bedframes. It was a photo of a woman and child - the wife and child of a German soldier. "It's easy to forget they probably want to go home, too." She quietly speaks. The man's eyes land on her, watching her as she takes in the photo. "It seems we're all just children fighting wars for old men, right?" Letting out a humorless chuckle, she pulls the photo from the bedframe and quickly stuffs into her pack. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he doesn't question her, and she doesn't answer to him.
They move into a smaller room, the Officer's quarters. A large bed sits in the corner of the room while an armchair sits in the opposite corner. "There's a way through here." Schofield points out to a door.
Blake takes his time taking in the room. With a joking smile, he takes a seat on the large bed. "Hey, what about this?" He gently bounces on the bed. Both Schofield and Mags can't help the small smile that grows on their lips. The springs of the bed squeak loudly, echoing through the empty bunker.
Catching a glimpse of a small string around his neck, Mags' brows furrowed. "Blake, what's 'round your neck?"
The young man smiled widely as he pushes himself off of the bed. Pulling the string out, a necklace of bottle corks swings out from under his uniform. "I've been collecting these whiskey corks." His proud expression elicited a soft smile from the nurse. "Every time I drink a bottle of whiskey, I put the cork on it. Hoping to get two more just to make it even." The corks bumped together.
