Margaret
I can't believe that jackass Donald divorced me. I don't know how to feel. At first, I felt excited and free. Now, I feel empty, sad, and alone. But who can I talk to? I don't want to wake Colonel Potter, Charles will just laugh, and B.J is writing to his wife and daughter.
As much as it kills me, there's only one man in this camp who cares, despite being unmilitary. I put on my robe and slippers, and walked over to post O.P to talk to Captain Pierce. I hope he'll take me seriously. The last thing I need is to have him make fun of me. I've ignored it in the past, but this one is serious, and I do need a friend.
He's checking a patient as I walk in. I hesitate for a second, scared he'll tease me. But, I need to talk to someone, and he's the best option now. I take a deep breath before I say his name.
"Hawkeye? Captain Pierce," He turns around, "Can I talk to you?" I ask, praying he will. He hears the stress and sadness in my voice, something that never happened to me before, except when I was a little girl.
"Yeah, sure. Kelley, give him another unit of plasma." The fact that he didn't make fun of me made me hopeful. Normally, he would say a sexual comment or joke before agreeing.
We walked outside and to the mess tent for coffee. I hope I can do this. Except for Frank, Donald, and a handful of my nurses, I've never told anyone how I feel. Not even to my father, who I told everything when I was little.
Pierce opens the door, and he waits. I'm taken back by his gesture. He never opens the door for me, not since we first meet two years ago. I walk in, hoping I can actually talk to him.
Hawkeye
We sat in silence for a while. At first, I wanted to make fun of her, but her voice sounded sad and helpless. Margaret never gets sad or hopeless. Powerful and nerve-wracking yes, but never like she is now.
"So, what's wrong?" I ask softly. She takes a drink of her coffee before answering.
"You know about my divorce, right," I nod, "At first, I felt great. Like I was flying in the sky. Now, I feel dreadfully alone." Ah, that's what's wrong.
"Margaret, what you feel is normal. I felt that way when my fiancé called it off." She looks at me.
"You've been engaged?" She asks. I nod, smiling.
"If you need to cry, than cry Margret. I did, and so does everyone. It's a way to relive stress. I won't tell a soul." She looks at me for a second before crying. I walk over to her and wrapping my arms around her, holding her close to me.
Strangely, she didn't pull away, and it didn't feel weird. Like it felt normal having her in my arms. After a few minutes, she stops crying.
"Sorry Pierce." She apologies, and I smile.
"Don't be Margaret." I say, looking in her eyes. We're unmoving, staring into one another's eyes. We slowly get closer, not breaking eye contact. Then, our lips meet, and I swear I heard fire works. We slowly pulled away, both of us out of breath.
"Wow." I spoke first. She blushed, not saying a word.
"Feel better?" I ask. Shew nods before pulling me in for another kiss. I didn't resist, or mind. For far to long I've hidden my feelings. Well, that stops now.
We kiss for what seems like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a minute or two. When we pulled away, she must have realized what she did, and ran out of the tent before I could say anything.
"Margret, wait!" But it was too little, to late.