A/N: I wrote this awhile back and figured I might as well post it somewhere.

Almost

And on cold and lonely nights like these, she would slip into his room and slide silently into the cool sheets. She would curl up against his back and feel the warmth radiating off his body.

And on nights like these, he would wordlessly roll over and wrap his arms around her tightly, pressing her into the warmth and comfort of his chest. And she would listen quietly to the steady rhythm of his heart beating against her ear.

Because he was alive.

And so was she.

And the light glow of the moon outside the open curtain gave her just enough light to see his face. To see the calm and peaceful side of him that he constantly kept hidden beneath a stoic mask.

And with the light, she'd trace the scars along his back and press her lips to the healing wounds.

And he would close his eyes and let her.

Because he was broken.

And so was she.

And in a world so cruel and full of death, the night seemed less lonely and the world less merciless when they were together.

On nights like these, they forgot about their duty, their task, their despair.

And with her in his arms, the frozen images of the bloody, mangled bodies of his comrades faded from his mind. He allowed himself to forget the world. Forget the truth. Forget what he was capable of doing with the very same hands that were holding her so delicately against him, and he tried to forget the weight of what that meant.

And when everything else seemed to fade away, she was still there.

But despite everything, how much she truly meant to him, he could never tell her.

Because this was a war, and there was no room for love on the battlefield. He understood, and so did she.

They were almost something.

And as long as they kept fighting, they would always just be almost.

And with her tightly in his arms, his breathing slowed, and his thoughts became less and less rational.

And for a moment, he allowed himself the hope of one day being free from this burden. He hoped for a day when all this would be over, and then, there would just be him and her.

Together.

And he fell asleep smiling, dreaming of a time when they could be something more than almost.

Thanks for the read! I'm sorry if you were expecting something with a plot.

Ebba.