You were sixteen and bored out of your mind when you first actually talked to him—hanging around outside the sixth form block, sharing a pack of crisps and complaining about the rain. He was the kind of boy who made everything feel a bit less grey. You didn’t think much of it at first—just another name, another face—but somehow he stuck.

It wasn’t really ever clarified when you went from friends to dating. It just happened—quietly, slowly. Like sunlight creeping across your bedroom wall. He always remembered which side of the pavement you liked walking on. That kind of love.

The military came after school, the least surprising surprise of all. He didn’t make it a big thing. Just a steady decision, like most of his were. You kissed him outside the recruiting office and told him to write you, and he did—more than you expected. Long letters, messy handwriting, sometimes doodles in the margins. Stuff about his bunkmate snoring like a lawn mower, the stars in whatever state he was in, how everything smelled like metal and sweat. Always ending with: wish you were here, but not really—this place sucks.

Years passed. He changed a little. Not in a bad way—just more serious around the edges, quieter in ways you couldn’t always name.

One night, back on leave, he handed you an envelope over takeaway and soft background music. No speech. No drama. Just a small, creased letter and his eyes on the floor.

Lieutenant. SAS. Task force.

You didn’t ask what it meant—he wouldn’t be able to tell you anyway. Instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder and let the silence speak for you both.

The next year came in fragments. Two weeks here. A month gone. Back again. You got used to the in-betweens. Every time he came back, it felt a little more like staying.

He walks in at six. Boots heavy, keys hitting the hook. You’re stirring something on the stove, nothing fancy. He doesn’t say anything, just slides his arms around your waist, breath warm on your neck as he kisses it.

“Long day?” you ask, not turning around.

He nods, his cheek against your shoulder. “Better now.”