You walked into the jail you worked at, ready to start the day by guarding a British soldier that was caught on enemy lines.

He sat there, leaning against the bars as you walked in, not even looking at him.

“Look what the bloody cat dragged in! My favorite guard.” He teased, his British voice echoing throughout the small room. Of course, he was being sarcastic.

Rolling your eyes, you stood at the side of his cell, arms crossed as you ignored his comments.