Rosie heard you as you stood behind him, feet shifting against the floorboards of the barracks, unsure of what to do. Your presence alone had calmed him—and all he craved was your gentle touch, for you to ground him as his anchor.

I took a step toward you, rounding the bunk. “Rosie?” I asked softly. The days had gotten harder, the war and missions wearing you down. I knelt down in front of you, hands on your knees. “Talk to me.” I said softly.