Forgetting
He tried to think about what it had been like to be a carefree child all those years ago. No burdens, no duties, no regrets. A future as bright as the sun awaited him. His possibilies had seemed endless. The more he remembered, the more he seemed to forget. Everything that he had done and endured seemed to erase another piece of his memories of a more peaceful time. It was too much to remember when the reality he was faced with was so cruel. It seemed easier to simply forget.
Warmth
Coldness had begun to engulf her. Everything was growing dark and quiet as well. She wondered if this was it, if this was what death felt like. The cold started in her toes and was swelling inside the pit of her stomach when she felt something she wouldn't have associated with death. Warmth. Life. A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her and she knew that this was not death.
Sunset
He had just arrived in town for his training and had not yet witnessed what he heard were breathtaking sunsets from atop the towns biggest hill. That's where he found her, next to the old tree that overlooked a lake. Shades of orange, red, yellow and pink meshed upon the horizon. He had to admit that the company he shared that evening was far more breathtaking than the sunset.
Innocence
One pull of the trigger. One bullet. One horrifying scream of pain. One death. One moment. Any shred of innocence she may have carried with her was severed and lost forever.
Options
She hated shopping for clothes. Let alone dresses. The military banquet coming up required formal wear and she figured she owed herself something new and this was the perfect excuse. Once she got to the store, however, the task of finding something seemed daunting. All sorts of dresses, knee-length, floor-length, scoop necks, V-necks, halters, A-line, empire, green, yellow, blue, polka dots, stripes, neon colors, pastels.
'Be sure to get something red, Lieutenant. I see you in blue day in and day out. Why don't you shake it up a bit?' Came the smooth voice of advice from her overbearing superior. She couldn't help but smile at the suggestion though.
Wheelchair
It was a quiet evening at the Hawkeye house. She was reading one of her many books on the floor while he carefully studied his alchemy notes. It was rare for a conversation to be started between them in this setting. Even rarer for her to open up about herself. But that night she did.
'I hate wheelchairs' she stated, keeping her eyes fixed on her book. He stopped and looked at her. Without prompting she continued. 'My mother had one, after she became too ill to walk on her own. That's when she stopped smiling. And now she's dead. It may seem irrational, but I know that wheelchair is why she stopped being happy. And I hate them for it.'
Nothing else was said that night. There was nothing to say.