The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 19

I used parts of my main med kit to touch myself up. Tweezers for eyebrows, cotton for cleaning up my face with bits of water. I found a way to curl my eyelashes upwards with the tweezers with no pain or damage as well. My hair, out of a tight bun and free of a helmet, was naturally flowing in waves. They surprised me so much that I had to feel them to make sure such waves were real.
When I left the empty tent, I wasn't surprised to see that most everyone had gone to the pub already. I sighed, annoyed at Zussman's "promise" to wait for me. I understood he was excited, though, with all his talking about French girls.
"You have your hair down," someone commented behind me and I faced the voice, my hair shifting with me.
"There's no way I'm dancing with a helmet on," I teased, smiling at Turner.
"What of your uniform?"
"Sir," I cleared my throat, "everyone is going to be too drunk to realize what I'm wearing. If anything, I'm going to have to watch the ones who want whatever I have off."
Turner's face hardened and he stepped towards me. "Not on my watch."
"Were you planning on joining?" I wondered.
"Someone has to be the adult."
I gave a giggle and then quickly choked it back. Having my hair down was already changing me and it almost felt embarrassing. Turner stepped closer, holding out an arm for me to take. I eyed his head, clean and without a helmet; he had dark blonde hair with forming grey front and center.
"Would you allow me to be your honest escort for the evening?"
I nodded, linking my arm in his surprisingly fit ones. I mean, it wasn't surprising he was fit, but he was just bigger than I would've thought. Turner squeezed my arm into his side more and it forced me to walk closer to him, more for his comfort than mine.
"What kind of dancing goes on in this time period?"
"Let's see," Turner thought. "They're all upbeat and very energetic. A few are slower, it still makes you sweep around the floor quickly. There's the Jitterbug, or Swing, and another called Rumba. The Lindy Hop."
I smiled to his enthusiasm. "Turner, do you like dancing?"
He was quiet for a while before nodding. "My wife and I danced all the time."
"You have a wife?"
"Yes," he sounded homesick when he spoke of her and I dropped the subject as we neared the bustling bar.
"I bet Zussman is already dancing on a table."
Turner let out a chuckle that made my insides clench in happiness. He released my arm to open the door, a chivalrous motion that made me blush.
I walked into the pub and was met with the smell of ales, fancier drinks, dancing, and loud live music. Turner let the door close behind us, standing next to me as he surveyed the scene.
    In front of us were few tables for more relaxed people to sit at. Stationed at the center of the pub was a wrap-around bar, busy with coming and going customers. The dance floor was the furthest from us and bigger than I would've imagined.
"Ava!" Zussman called out from the dance floor, waving.
I gave a little wave back as I noticed the two young women dancing with him. Turner shook his head, letting out a mumble of annoyance. I playfully elbowed his ribs and motioned to the bar. He led the way to two empty bar stools, sitting on his first.
I pulled mine out, swinging to sit on it, but suddenly the stool wasn't there and I was falling towards the floor. Someone gripped my good arm and swung me upwards, around the fallen stool, and into their side. I glared up at the face of the person.
"Come dance, don't sit here with ol' Turner!" Aiello grinned.
I looked at Turner as Aiello swept me off with ease, worried of being rude. Turner only shook his head in a chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. I let out a laugh as Aiello spun me around onto the wooden dance floor.
"You don't look like you know what to do," Aiello shouted over the music.
I looked at the other couples and people dancing to the upbeat jazz music. "Seems like you just swing around and kick your legs."
"That's why they call it a Swing dance, Ava," Aiello pecked my cheek and I swatted at him.
He grabbed my hands, flinging me around past him. I kicked out my legs as I went back towards him, letting out a laugh as he did the same with opposite legs. Aiello spun me around, throwing me back the other way as he finished the gentle spin.
Through the crowd, in my glances, I could make out Zussman and Stiles dancing with their own women. Daniels had wandered over to Turner, settling for some drinks and staying loyal to his woman back home. Pierson was, as expected, nowhere to be found.
"This is the best dance I've ever experienced!" I laughed as Aiello swung his arms side to side while holding my hands. "And the music is so upbeat!"
Aiello's face dropped his smile temporarily and then grew a grin so mischievous it made me nervous. Right as I went to glance over my shoulder at what he was looking at, he whipped me around and then flung me away from him, releasing my hand. I stumbled in a spin, letting out a curse.
My hands hit two hard things. The first was a chest, no doubt with the feeling of a pectoral beneath it, and the other felt like a hand at the ready. I looked up, my eyes widening and heart stopping as I realized it was Pierson. I went to pull away in fear, of embarrassment, but his hand gripped mine tighter.
"The music is slowing down," I muttered. "I better leave."
Pierson glared over my head at a chuckling Aiello and Zussman. "You're not going anywhere," his dark brown gaze shifted to me.
"Excuse me?"
"If I don't get at least one woman in this room to dance with me, I'm going to lose a bet," his words were slightly slurred, breath stiff with alcohol.
"You made a drunken bet?" I demanded.
"I made it before I was drunk," his lips twitched. "So, Avaline Baker, dance with me?"
It sounded more like a demand than a question. I felt like I didn't have a choice with the iron grasp of his hand around mine. I narrowed my green gaze.
"I don't know how to dance to this."
"It's easy," Pierson's other hand suddenly came to my side and I flinched in surprise. "Just go with the flow of things."
With that, we were off. Pierson swept me across the dance floor deeper into the crowd. I glided along, moving my feet and legs as he did. It felt like a mixture between a Tango and Waltz as we moved. Between his spinning of me like I weighed nothing and the close proximity of our legs, I lost track of our location and what music was playing.
If the dance could've been performed perfectly and someone wanted to see it done so, all they would have to do was watch Pierson. Though I couldn't see us from a distance, I knew he was performing every move perfectly. His muscles braced in all the right places at the right times. He would pull me closer and then further away.
The most interesting part is that his gaze wasn't set on the people dancing around us, but me. His dark gaze was pinpointed on my own eyes. While his eyes were focused and cold like usual, mine stayed soft and curious. The two differences clashed and fought against each other, trying to invade each other.
The movement slowed, leaving Pierson to mostly just spin us in place. I no longer felt dizzy, but overly aware. I knew I was in the exact center of the dance floor, surrounded by mindless people dancing, and I was being pulled closer into the arms of someone who hated me.
Pierson pulled my hips so close our chests touched, our thighs touching on the right side. I gripped his uniform as he dipped me down, an added extra that would make most women swoon; not me...I knew who he was when he wasn't drunk or pressured into dancing. I shifted my grip from his chest to his steady bicep, breathing heavily. His face was close to mine and, just for a moment, I noticed the hard gaze of his soften. The dark, frozen chocolate looked as if it were starting to swirl into a liquid.
Pierson's chest heaved against mine and his eyes traced my face, settling shortly on my lips before snapping back to my locked eyes. I used my leg muscle to push myself back up straight. Pierson went with it, loosening his tight hold on my smaller form.
I stepped away from him, my chest still heaving in breathlessness. Pierson's eyes grew hard as I slowly backed away and exited the dance floor. My heart was going a hundred miles an hour and it wasn't just because of the fast-paced dancing.
My legs felt shaky as I headed for Turner and Daniels at the bar. I knew everyone in our platoon had just witnessed the dance. I knew I would never hear the end of it. I also knew I had to protect myself and steel myself from Pierson like before.
Still. I knew what I was feeling. I didn't want to feel it either. I was in deep shit with the simmer in my gut. I had just fallen. Hard. I felt the bruises on my heart before they would even happen, but I still let myself fall. Pierson was impressive. I liked it. I liked him. Over a dance? Yes, just that dance and he had me falling for him. I didn't want to. God, anyone but him. But I couldn't help myself. How could it be possible after just a little dance with a lengthy dip at the end? And what of his softness during it? Had that been because of the alcohol in his system or a true, meaningful break in his shell?
"You look a little spun up there," Daniels joked.
I ignored Turner's pressing gaze by plopping down at the bar. I politely demanded a strong alcoholic beverage and chugged it down. My throat burned from the substance, but I asked for another few anyways.
"Easy now," Turner clutched my forearm when I went to pick up my fourth one.
"Let me do it, please," I whispered.
Turner reluctantly released my forearm and let me chug down the drink. I stopped after that one, letting the alcohol catch my system. Around me the room started becoming fuzzy, the sounds more dull.
"I need to get her back to camp," Turner spoke to Daniels.
"Need a hand?"
"No, keep an eye on those three," Turner was looking between Pierson, Zussman, and Aiello.
"I don't want to go yet," I murmured when Turner stood to help me get up. "No."
Turner wrapped an arm around my back and lifted me with ease. I struggled to fight, as he dragged me out the pub door into the cool air of the night. As soon as the air hit me, I gagged and spun away from Turner.
I emptied my empty stomach, suddenly remembering how incredibly stupid it was to drink with an empty stomach. Turner moved my hair away from my face as I hurled a third time, completely ridding myself of the alcohol. I held my stomach once I was done and stumbled back. Turner caught me, holding me up while I leaned against his chest.
"Come on, Ava," he spoke so softly I almost didn't think it was him.
I helped him help me up, pushing off with my wobbly legs. Turner practically carried me to the tent I shared with the boys. I didn't feel him struggling with my light form, but I still felt bad.
"Into your cot now," Turner was gentle as he laid me back onto the stiff cot.
I reached to take off my boots, but Turner was already taking them off before I could touch them. He pulled up my sleeping sack, zipping it so I wouldn't crawl out. I clutched onto his hand as he ran his own through his hair.
"Thank youuu."
"Try to sleep," Turner was more firm, squeezing my hand once and then releasing it.
My eyes were already closed as he blew out the dim lantern. I felt a hand run along my forehead in concern and then his footsteps signaled his retreat. They headed back for the pub, not deeper into camp.
I rolled, looking at the thin ceiling of the temporary wall tent. On the ceiling danced a replica of Pierson and I on the dance floor, except both of us were smiling at each other. Neither of us were wearing uniforms either: he was in a suit and myself in a white dress.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes, the picture in front of me gone. Inwardly, I groaned. I had one meaningless dance with the soldier and now I was already imagining getting married. If that wasn't a drunken, childish mind then I didn't know what was.
I rolled onto my side, facing away from the door, and pulled my phone out of my pack. I went into my photos, going over my collection of my most favorite and important. I tried to memorize them, the smiles and eyes of every person in the photos, the pattern of pets, the scenery of trips or the way a picture of a sunset was painted.
Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face.

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I loved writing this chapter so much. I hope you enjoyed as well readers.
So happy to have 1K on this book already! Thank you all so much for your support. The votes and comments make me motivated to keep writing consistently!! ❤️
Song: Sing Sing Sing by Benny Goodman
~MS~