One of the negative things about the military was the regulations against love. No intimacy, no love, no personal attachments. But John still felt an aching in his chest whenever he was near you. A longing for something much more.

He couldn’t continue walking in to you like this. Made up excuses just to see you. You were completely oblivious to it. To his love for you. John was good at keeping it hidden, building up these walls and a mask kept on his face at all times. He’d never show you how he truly felt. It would ruin your careers.

So he walked in again with a bleeding cut on his cheek, right above his beard. He could easily clean it himself, anyone knew that. But he longed to see you.

He knocked on the doorframe, leaning against it slightly. It was late, your shift as a medic was almost over for the night, but he had to see you before bed. Or else he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

“Got time for one last patient?” He spoke with a slight chuckle, trying to seem casual as if he hadn’t planned this the whole day.