Comet
Your hand touches mine through the glove, and I nearly pass out. I can't concentrate, I'm sweating, and my hands are shaking. And it's all your fault.
You stand there, oblivious to the trouble you are causing me, talented hands digging into some soldier's chest. You and I normally work like a well-oiled machine, but today, I seem to be making all the mistakes. To your credit, you say nothing. Your eyes flick from your patient, to the nurse, to the other doctors – and for a split second, me. Even the briefest flash of eye contact sends my heart rate skyrocketing.
You stand six inches away, and yet you're impermeable, untouchable. A comet, streaking across a star strewn sky, dazzling the people below with your mystery and beauty. You don't live among us, you simply visit, bestowing the honour of your unearthly presence on us from time to time. And you're the reason I'm standing here, sewing my fingers together. You have rendered me speechless and untalented. A rare occurrence.
But maybe I should explain my flowery poetry. From the first day I knew you, I fell in love. Blue eyes met hazel, and I began to tremble. All thoughts of any women were pushed violently from my head as you extended a hand. That first touch alone spawned a thousand fantasies.
And now, here I am, a lovesick fool, something I always promised myself I wouldn't be.
At first, it was hard to understand. I couldn't think of why your face floated into every dream I had, why my heart raced when I saw you. You are, after all, a guy – and I thought I was straight as an arrow. I guess not.
But it's better now. I have come to terms with the fact that I can never be placed in the "normal" category – although I'm not sure I ever fit in there.
And still, you stand there, in the dark about what you do to me. Maybe tonight is the night I'll finally be able to tell you how I feel.
Because there won't always be another day.
***The End***
So…is it Hawkeye telling the story, or Trapper. I'm going to let you decide who you think it is!