My breath comes in quick pants and even the small action of my lungs expanding slightly causes my torso to ache and I let out a pained hiss as I stare up at the ceiling. Damien's perfect face enters my mind and his words flash through my head:
"You're not going to fight. The enemy's too strong and you're too fragile and weak." And too important.
He doesn't say the words, but I see them in his crimson eyes, that stare at me with determination. He's determined to keep me here with the others, who will have no part in the fighting. He's determined to protect me.
Three feelings consume me at the thought, annoyance, frustration, and even though I don't want to admit it happiness. I'm happy that he loves me enough to want to protect me, but it annoys me that he treats me like I'm easily breakable, as if I'm a glass figurine that needs to be placed high up on a shelf, far away from every one, and the possibility of violence. I can handle myself, and it frustrates me to no end, that he keeps me here at the base, while he fights for not only his life, but mine, and the others…
I think back to those nights that he stumbled into our room, and flopped down on our bed, too exhausted to undress in the least, and that helpless feeling gnaws at me because all I can do is remove some of his clothes and tuck him in next to me. As if that isn't enough, the anxiety of imagining him not come back at all, picturing a bruised and battered, Kyle, or Stan, slowly making his way over to me head heavy with sorrow, and I try to deny it, but I know the truth.
He raises his head, and looks at with green or blue eyes, so full of pain, horror, and now sorrow, as he tells me that Damien's gone…knowing I could be out on that battle field watching Damien's back, and making sure we both come back, if only he'd just let me fight…
"…Please Damien."
I finally plead in a whisper, but it's useless.
I can see the resolution in his eyes. He will keep me from harm no matter what... even if it kills him.
"No. That's final."
He growls firmly, before turning and exiting the room.
'Damien.'
Tears form in the corner of my eyes as I think of how I'll never see him again. I'll never touch his perfect face, look into his gorgeous crimson eyes, or kiss his wonderful lips on mine one last time. I'll die here alone and cold.
"…Damien…I …love you…"
I wheeze, even though I know I'm alone.
I imagine myself in his arms, safe and sound, back before this war, back when everything was beautiful and pure, and I feel myself smile, as my breathing slows until it stops completely and my time runs out.
When the others finally find me, it will be too late.