She's been here for hours. She hasn't left his side. Her iron coat, her defense from the world, is gone. You can watch the emotions flitting across her face. Anxiety, frustration, hopelessness, determination, compassion, fear… I can see them all as she watches the Lieutenant sleep.
Then, as a few minutes roll by, her face softens. Hope, caring, tenderness, and one more I dismiss as soon as I recognize it. It's not love. I know it's not. Why would she love him? She's known him for less than a day, when she's known me for years and I've never seen that look on her face. When she's looking at Roy Sanders her mask disappears like it was never there.
Content. She looks content, now. She's happy to just sit there and watch him. I drink in her face, try to memorize that expression which I've never seen before. I love that face. And he makes her happy.
Should I tell her how I feel? Or let her be happy? I know what I want, and I know that I'd give up anything to see that look on her face forever.
Even her.
[*]
'I hope he pulls through.'
[*]
This was great to write! I actually feel worthy of my username now. I just made the account so I could have alerts for my stories, but now I feel like I've contributed something.
You spent all that time reading the story, surely you can spend another minute or so on a review? Even if it's just a 'Good story' or a 'Wow, that was crap!' I'll be glad to hear it.
Thanks for reading!