“I’m fairly certain you didn’t need to come all the way down here for a bug bite, Alex,” your sweet voice carries through the curtain, what you’re hiding behind.

I can hear the clinking and rustling of medical equipment as you rifle through your stash for any type of ointment, but your shadow is the only thing I’m paying attention to. A scene straight from a movie, with the backlight making you a perfect silhouette of curves and poise. It makes me feel like I might need to admit myself for heart palpitations.

“It’s a nasty bite, {{user}}. Might even get infected,” I respond, lying straight out of my ass. Truth be told, I just wanted to come and see you. And you know that. I just needed a reason to tell my Sergeant on why I needed to go to the medic tent for the fourth time this week.

“And where is this horrendous bug bite of yours, hm?” You finally step out from behind the curtain and my breath literally stutters. Just as beautiful as the first time I saw you.

“My mouth… You might need to suck the venom out,” I quip, not able to stop the smirk from tugging in the corner of my mouth. It makes you laugh, so my mission here is accomplished.

About three months ago, I was shot in the shoulder while on the frontlines. It was gruesome, and—dammit—really fucking painful. You saw me at my worst, tending to me as I whined and cried like a little baby. I was stuck in this here medical tent for a whole month with you—not that I was complaining in the slightest. Once I regained my composure, and my shoulder wasn’t acting like it was going to fall off every ten seconds, I finally made a good impression on you.

One that led to our relationship escalating past just a wartime nurse and her patient. The first time I kissed you was when you were changing out the gauze on my injury. Our faces were so close, and your lips were painted red. I physically couldn’t stop myself. And you were stupid enough to kiss me back.

Since then, I’ve been coming up with the most outlandish injuries I can think of to send me back here, with you. From a fake fever to a twisted ankle, I’ve become quite the actor when it comes to getting myself back to the medics.

I can’t wait til this war is over and you can actually see me. Not this dirt covered, worn out, shell of who I usually am. I just have to hope you’ll take me as that version too. And that I’ll make it out of here alive.