@KalamariCakes
"Yes…" He mumbled weakly.
"Yes…" He mumbled weakly.
She entered slowly. "Are you alright?" she asked hesitantly.
He rubbed his hands slowly down his face. "Just.. thinking.."
She walked around behind him and gently massaged his shoulders.
He rested his head down on his arms. "I make an awful soldier, Jane.."
"Of course you don't," Jane said softly. "Why on earth would you say that?"
Pierre tensed and raised his gun, fear tearing through him.
"Of course you don't," Jane said softly. "Why on earth would you say that?"
"I can't handle it," he whimpered, "I'm breaking myself.."
Pierre tensed and raised his gun, fear tearing through him.
The first enemy gunshot fired from the opposite side of the camp, and then chaos burst like a bubble.
"Of course you don't," Jane said softly. "Why on earth would you say that?"
"I can't handle it," he whimpered, "I'm breaking myself.."
She gently rubbed his back to calm him down. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No, just… I don't want to burden you." He murmured.
"You don't need to worry about me," Jane replied softly. "I'll be just fine."
He sat up, a weak groan escaping his lungs. "I'm.. I'm going to have some wine. Do you need anything?" He kept his gaze heavy, averted.
"No. I can get it for you," she suggested. "You stay here. I'll be right back."
"Okay." He exhaled. If he had the will, he wouldn't let his pregnant wife go out of her way for anything. In a way, he was punishing himself by multiplying his guilt. Paradoxical, but painfully satisfying.
Jane left the room and returned later with a bottle and wine glass.
"Thank you." He mumbled.
"It was nothing," she said, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.
He turned his head to look at her stomach, where his first child rest. Oh… They would never know they had a sibling.
She took his hand and placed it on her stomach so he could feel Roo kicking. She smiled happily.
His expression remained forlorn and heavy, letting his thumb brush across the stretched surface. "Do I even deserve you, Jane..?"
"Why would you need to ask that question?" Her eyes began to fill with worry for her husband.
"I just don't.. measure up, enough, for you.."
"Of course you do," she said softly. "It's I that doesn't deserve you, John."
"Ohh," his voice started to tremble, and he held his breath to tame it. "I just…"
She blinked. "John? Are you alright?"
He covered his face, then reached for the wine, without a word.
She rubbed his back silently.
He wiped his mouth, entirely silent.
Hesitantly, his wife spoke up again. "Did I say something wrong?"
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