Clouded - Scomiche

chapter 6

sorry for any spelling mistakes

Mitch swears he can almost feel a vein pop in his head as he strains for a final time, his hands sore as he gives up trying to undo the lid of his water bottle. They've been out on a base a few miles from camp with some of the Afghan army for about four hours now, patrolling the area and meeting locals and Mitch is yet to get a drink, his water bottle lid put on too tightly for him to undo. He regrets giving it to Michael to fill up this morning, feeling that the lid was clearly put on this tight intentionally.

As he tosses it to the side, someone approaches him and picks it up off the ground. Mitch doesn't look up, only tilting his head when the water bottle is held out to him, the lid now no longer welded to it.

Mitch looks up, meeting a pair of washed out green eyes, the kind of colour a green sweater would go if you washed it too many times. Avi passes Mitch his water bottle, clearing his throat and sitting beside him with his eyes locked on the ground.

"Thanks," Mitch says quietly, a subtle hint of confusion tainting his words. He takes a sip of water, the cold liquid washing down his throat and relieving it from the dry desert that it was slowly becoming.

Avi gnaws on his upper lip, his eyes scattering across the terrain in front of them before they settle on the floor beneath their feet. He sighs quietly as Mitch just watches him, waiting.

"Staff spoke to me last night," he says softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Avi gulps, nodding his head slightly, "I want to put everything behind us. If we can."

Mitch inhales deeply, his heart racing in his chest, "of course."

"I'm sorry for treating you the way I have for the past few months."

"Are you really sorry? Or.. or has Scott just told you to say this?"

"The Staff hasn't told me to say anything," Avi breathes with a sigh, "I'm just sorry. It's not like me to act like that."

"I made you angry."

"No, no you didn't. You told the truth. I just refused to listen."

"But why? Everyone hates me already... you don't need to-"

"No one hates you, Mitch."

Mitch rolls his eyes, looking away from Avi, "you're all damn good at acting like you do then."

There's a moment of silence between the two men, the only sounds in Mitch's ears being that of the Afghan terrain crunching between moving boots and the gentle whistle of the breeze. He takes it in for a moment, the serenity and true beauty of the desert when there's no war visible.

"What's over there?" Mitch asks, pointing towards a small hut, surrounded by a few locals.

"Not sure. Probably just another deserted building or something."

Mitch frowns through squinted eyes, shaking his head slightly, "then why are all the people around it looking in our direction? Maybe they need help or something. There's a little boy-"

"Or maybe they're just trying to lure you in. Just leave it." Avi says bluntly, putting his hand on Mitch's wrist subconsciously to try and physically hold the curious boy back.