𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟏 | 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

as you entered the otherwise empty soldier’s quarters, you heard one particular voice, quoting spencer tracy. with more passion than you’d ever heard, you noted, trying to avoid thinking about how pleasant the voice sounds to your ears.

as you walked, the voice seems to be getting closer, and eventually, you turned a corner, only to be met with a sight you thought you’d never see.

major harry crosby let out an embarrassed squeak. he immediately began fidgeting with the towel that hung loosely around his otherwise bare body, save his military cap, that sat crookedly on his head.

you cover your eyes immediately, avoiding the urge to look anyway. he let out an awkward giggle, sliding to stand behind a desk to preserve some of his modesty.

eventually, from behind the impromptu shield, he managed to form a coherent, albeit short, sentence.

“terribly sorry, miss….?”