A World for Two People
She is already done with her work for the day, so she sorts through tomorrow's pile of papers. He is rushing to catch up with yesterday's work, frustrated and tired of the relentless amount of banal bureaucracy that is his daily existence. Occasionally he sneaks glances at his adjutant, but his eyes do not dare linger a moment too long; her senses and her eyes are much sharper than his.
"My God! It's already dark out, Lieutenant." He attempts to start a conversation, try to fish his way out of work. He swivels around in his chair to face the city nightscape and stretches, letting out a yawn.
"Focus on your work, sir. Or, we'll be here even later."
Trying to make his unhappiness as visible as possible, he sulkily refocuses his attention on first battalion's planned night exercises at 0100 tomorrow. He begins to draw a small dog in the corner of the page. First, he draws the face and snout, punctuated by a small round nose and two eyes. Then, adding the characteristic arch of black fur over the eyes, he moves on to the body, the paws and finally the tail. For a few minutes, he is wholly absorbed in his doodle. He struggles, for several long hours and through several more dog doodles, before he is finished with even a half of his work and she finally relents.
"Yes!" He makes a noise that is half groan and half yawn, collapsing on top of his desk.
She lingers by the door, her black coat folded neatly over one arm, waiting for him to finish packing up for the night. The hallways are dark save for squares of moonlight cut by window panes. He throws on his own coat with a flourish and literally bounces out of the office. At first, she wants to remind him that there is still more work left to be done but she can only respond to the childish joy on his face with a beleaguered grin of her own.
Fetching keys from her uniform pocket, she locks the office door. As she turns to leave, suddenly, she feels his arms wrap around her waist, his arms coming to rest in the curve of her back. The moonlight casts a mysterious glow over her face, reflecting deliciously off her lips and amber eyes wide with surprise. In a smooth, almost trained, motion, he releases her hair clip, letting her hair fall to her shoulders and into his hand. He presses his forehead to hers, never breaking their steady gaze. She understands the look in his eyes, a look that too easily betrays what he really wants to say. So, she responds, reaffirming his unspoken feelings.
She closes her eyes, a gesture of submission and acceptance and mostly, of need. He draws her close, her hair tickling his face and kisses her, gently, passionately, quietly, the sort of kiss that speaks volumes and nothing at the same time, the sort of kiss that lovers exchange when both are consumed by the entirety of the each other's being, the sort of kiss that leaves no room for anyone else but them.
Quietly, he slips his ungloved hand into hers and as they leave headquarters for the evening, as the building dwindles to silence save for the sound of their receding footsteps, it feels as if this night, this world exists only for the two of them.