Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or any characters/story lines contained therein. – Thanks
A Soldier's Song
Tap, Tap, Tap. Goes his boot against the floor.
He sits at the table, packing his ammo. A classic snatch and grab, with minimal resistance. They'll be back in time for dinner.
Tap, Tap, Tap. Goes her toe against his chair.
She rests beneath the table, still a bit uncomfortable with wide open spaces. Resembling her now clean pistol. She gets it finally. Why he doesn't let anyone else use his.
Tap, Tap, Tap. Goes his boot against the floor.
He takes a bite of whiskey, and sets it down again. He scoffs around the smoldering cigar between his teeth. It'll be nothing if not a challenge.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Goes her toe against his chair.
She reaches up and over the table's edge. Inching the bottle into reach. If he can drink it so can she, and she knocks back a little swig.
Tap, Tap, Tap. Goes his boot against the floor.
He pretends he doesn't notice as she slides the bottle back. Though his mouth twitches into a smile at her muted gags.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Goes her toe against his chair.
She holsters her gun, and stares quietly into nothing. She will wait contently until he's ready, no matter how long or how short a time it takes.
Tap - Tap - Tap. Stills his boot against the floor.
He tucks the extra ammo into his belt satchel, and tucks an extra cigar into his vest. He heaves a satisfying sigh, holstering his sidearm and shouldering his rifle. He leans over, thumbing her out of hiding.
Tap - Tap -Tap. Stills her toe against his chair.
She clamors up and hurries after, slinging her own rifle onto her back. Two steps at a time to keep up with his wide gate. She'll prove her mettle or die trying.
Hush. Hush. Hush. Goes the air in silent swirling.
The quiet left behind is a horrid kind of sound; the song that only soldiers hear following softly on their heels.
