They exchanged glances during briefings, in passing, in between sips of coffee. Only when no one was looking. At least such was true for Fareeha. She settled her sights upon her targets with an intensity that made her fellow soldiers cower. Whenever Angela walked by, she hoped she didn't gaze upon her the same way. Subtlety wasn't Fareeha's strong suit, after all.
But part of her wanted to—wanted to stop pretending that whatever it was they were experiencing was a fluke and finally get it out of their systems. Her eyes alone conveyed all the unspoken sentiments she held for Angela alone. Surely the feelings were mutual, right?
Those blue eyes lingered over Fareeha whenever they breathed the same air. She swore they flicked over her toned body more than once. Blush warmed Angela's face and words escaped her whenever they attempted mere conversation. Or perhaps Fareeha had the opposite effect on her and made her nervous, uncomfortable. The thought pained her; she wanted to bring Angela nothing but happiness. She deserved nothing less.
But they were also teammates. No one else fooled around in the lull between active missions. Not to Fareeha's knowledge. What would everyone else think? But what else was Fareeha to do? Pretend what she felt didn't exist? The competing emotions tore a hole inside of her chest and sent her heart racing.
If only I could have kissed her back then, Fareeha thought, memories surfacing of that rainy night.
Every instance she passed by Angela, she contemplated saying something, doing something. As eager as she was in combat, Fareeha tripped over her words if not outright choked on them before Angela. Doubt riddled her mind. Perhaps it was better to admire the lovely woman from afar and not trouble her with childish crushes.
She eyed Angela entering the break room, far more interested her arrival than the lunch sitting before Fareeha. Angela prepped her coffee as if readying herself for surgery—not a movement out of place. She hummed to herself, the tune turning her lips upright. Everyone else chatted, but Fareeha opted for silence.
There had been a point where she insisted on calling her by her callsign—Mercy. For what they shared was a mutual work arrangement. Nothing more. Whether on the battlefield or in a break room, she was Mercy.
But now Fareeha grew used to the sound of Angela rolling off her tongue. Even though Angela suggested it to her and claimed she didn't mind, Fareeha spoke it with admiration and cherished the syllables strung together. Had anyone cared to notice the slight change in her behavior around their combat medic?
Had Angela noticed?
Fareeha excused herself from the table to fetch some coffee or so she convinced herself. She lingered by Angela, eyes to her more so than the coffee machine. Or where her feet were taking her.
The two bumped into each other and they gasped.
"I'm so sorry," Fareeha rushed out first.
"Oh my goodness!" Angela cup a hand over her mouth. "Are you alright?"
Fareeha drank in the fresh blush on Angela's cheeks. Those eyes, those lips... What she would give to return to that alley in the rain, to not pretend and expressed what she truly felt.
You could say something now. Be honest. She deserves that much.
Swallowing down the anxiety, Fareeha chuckled. "But of course. And you?"
Angela mirrored Fareeha's reaction. "Yes, thank you. Didn't mean to be clumsy."
"The fault's my own. I didn't mean to get in your way."
"Not to worry. You never are."
Angela finished her making her coffee and Fareeha abandoned her half-made cup. She memorized the way Angela tucked loose hair behind her ear and cradled her mug. Then she shuffled off, perhaps to return to her office and slave over more microscopes and reports. As for Fareeha, she returned to her seat to finish her lunch with an absent mind. All the while, her eyes stared out the windows to the clear skies, eager for the next time they could fly together.