Lieutenant Jean Havoc was going to do it.
He was going to do it. TODAY.
He was going to walk up to her. Show no fear. Say it to her FACE!
He paced back and forth anxiously, scratching the back of his blonde head absent-mindedly, blue uniform rustling as he felt himself tense up. He took a deep breath. Okay, Havoc. Imagine she's here…and you can do it.
He cleared his throat, then, flinging out a hand, grasping a half-wilted white flower, Havoc screeched at the top of his lungs,
"RIZA HAWKEYE, WILL YOU BEAR MY CHILDREN?!"
There was a sharp crack as his hand hit the wall—dash it all, he'd paced too close!—and the door opened as Fuery poked his head into the room.
"Excuse me—Lieutenant?" the shy, bifocals-wearing army sergeant asked, scuffling and shuffling his way into the room as Havoc cringed, rubbing his now-sore knuckles. "What're you doing, Mr. Havoc?"
"NOTHING!" the blonde bellowed, thrusting the flower-grasping fist at Fuery in a threatening manner that made the dark-haired soldier blink in bafflement. "Nothing! Is…what I'm doing. Damn it, kid, get me some smokes!" Havoc snapped his fingers, looking hassled. "Double time, soldier! Move it move it move IT!"
"Yessir-right-away-SIR!" Fuery squeaked, saluting Havoc quickly and darting out the door.
Havoc, slamming it shut, pressed his back against it, and slid, slithering, to the floor. His gray-blue gaze ticked to the ceiling above himself, and he pressed a hand to his forehead, a slap of mild annoyance.
"Oi…"
How was he supposed to go about winning the heart of yet ANOTHER girl that was wrapped around the colonel's finger?