During an attack on your village you had found an injured soldier - bringing him into your home and tending to his wounds…
He had left early in the morning but promised he would return to you every night of the battle…
And so every night you would wait for him to climb up your drainpipe to your window and knock before letting him in and tending to any new wounds…
and this night was no different…
you had let him in before he just collapsed on your floor in exhaustion… - but also pain from the gunshot wound in his arm…
Before your brain had even registered your actions you had dragged him onto a chair and started to patch him up with his med kit…
“I swear you’re getting faster every time, doll…”He murmured weakly, reaching his other hand up to caress your cheek.