The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 41

I didn't have to open my eyes to know someone was watching me. Their eyes traveled across my features, first scanning my eyelids and then moving downwards to my lips. The person was softly stroking along my temple, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my left ear.
I shifted and the movements paused. His hand stayed where it was, cautious to not wake me. I allowed my eyes to slide open, coming into contact with Pierson's extremely mellow expression. His dark eyes were melted chocolate, coppery flecks appearing in the irises of them.
"Did you sleep?"
"Yes," he gruffed, continuing to twirl a strand of my hair between his fingers. "I'm feeling much better."
I freed my hand from his chest to feel his forehead. Pierson closed his eyes as I stroked the hair away from it and felt his normal skin temperature. I paused when I noticed how relaxed he'd become; never had I seen him so at ease.
"I'm glad the fever broke," I cleared my throat and released him. "You had a lot of us worried last night."
Pierson shrugged, letting go of my hair. "Without your help, I don't think I would've broken it."
"Was that a compliment?" I grinned, chuckling. "Hardass Pierson just gave me a compliment?"
Pierson let out a low grumble from his chest and he shifted closer as if to pin me. "So what if it was?"
"Wow," I joked, "you're really trying to come around."
Pierson was silent, a finger trailing along my jaw. I sucked in a breath, feeling that burning sensation in my gut return again. I willed it to go away yet it just got worse as Pierson scraped my lower lip.
"What are you playing at?" I drew away slightly. "I'm never around you this long without hearing a rude comment."
Pierson shrugged again. "I'm trying to show you respect."
"Examining me like a piece of artwork is not--"
"But you are artwork," he mused. "To me at least."
My breath cut off again as Pierson tilted my chin upwards. My eyes trailed down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. It was odd to see him like this...so foreignly open and relaxed. I almost missed the other Pierson.
"We should probably get up before someone comes in and sees you like this," I tried to ignore the falter in Pierson's expression. "There are things to do and places to be."
Pierson's eyes hardened. "Indeed."
I slipped out of the warm sleeping sack, immediately wishing to be back enveloped in heat. Pierson sat up, rubbing the side of his face. I laced up my boots as I watched him.
"Are you okay?" I stood from the bench and crossed to feel his forehead again.
Pierson pulled away, cold and bitter. "I'll get through it."
I let out a small sigh. "I'm not trying to dismiss you, Pierson." He looked up at me as I spoke. "I can't be a distraction to you or anyone else. We have a war to finish."
Pierson dipped his head in rare understanding. "You don't have to explain."
I swallowed, watching as he removed my hand from his forehead and briefly kissed the top of it. My inwards dropped to my knees at the sweet action and I wanted to cry out in girlishness right then. How could such a man be, well, such a man?
Pierson had a lot of ups and downs, happys and sads, angrys and calms. It was hard to trust if one would ever be permanent. Right now, with these emotions and things he was doing, Pierson was beyond infuriating. Was he just trying to get under my skin or was what I saw something genuine? Had Zuss been right in the idea that I changed him with my presence?
"You had a small dinner last night," Pierson stood, his form now towering over my own. "You must be hungry."
And he was concerned about that? The fever must've done something to him.
"Come on," he waited at the tent flap with his helmet on his head.
Yep, definitely the fever.
    I stepped past him to enter the morning light of camp. A few men were up and about, shaking themselves awake or pacing restlessly from duty to duty. Aiello and Stiles were both seated at a nearby fire pit, trying to get some morning warmth.
To the shadow of Pierson behind me, Aiello's eyes widened significantly. I reached their spot in seconds , trying to ignore the pressing look from Stiles as well. Pierson sat before I did, reaching his hands out to the fire.
I managed to slip a glance towards Aiello, who held a what the actual fuck face. My shoulders subtly shrugged and I picked up one of the heating rations to dig into a much-needed breakfast.
"Ava, I have a question and you don't have to answer it," Aiello waited until I prompted him to continue. "How much longer do we have in this war and do we win?"
Pierson's pressing gaze tore into my right cheek and I shivered in my sweatshirt underneath my uniform. I wished I had my pack with me to also capture heat at my back. My helmet was minimal warmth as well.
I let out a breath. These two young men in front of me had been through hell and back; never mind the shit Pierson had been through before D-Day too. They deserved some sort of hope that the war would end in Allied victory.
"By September, the war will be over," I lowered my voice. "When you get to go home...I'm not sure exactly."
Aiello whistled a long, low breath. "Who wins?"
I sharpened my gaze. "I won't tell you."
"Easy, easy," his hands shot up in defense.
"I'm sorry," I rubbed my face with a groan. "This whole thing is catching up to me, that's all."
"It is for all of us," Stiles looked around the waking camp.
"Yeah, well don't be too excited," Pierson huffed, "we still gotta long time till then."
"I would never be excited to get out of a shit hole like this," I snapped back. "Especially because I don't know what's going to happen after."
"We'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're all right by the end of this," Aiello nodded his head firmly my direction. "Or at least I will."
"You're not the only one, jackass," Stiles muttered, rolling his eyes.
Pierson didn't say anything and I knew he wouldn't in front of the boys. Doing so would reveal the softness underneath his hard shell. I only shifted on my haunches and leaned closer to the fire, staring at the dancing orange flames.
"I just hope we don't lose anyone else," Stiles was gazing over the camp.
"It's war, what happens, happens," Pierson growled and then stood. "Report to my tent in ten."
He sulked back towards the tent, his footsteps becoming quieter with each step. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The pressing eyes of Stiles and Aiello made me stiff.
"What?"
"Care to explain why Pierson, of all people, sat here this morning?" Stiles crossed his arms.
I shrugged. "His fever messed him up a little, that's all."
"Uh huh," Aiello crossed his arms.
    "Shit," I grumbled. "I forgot my med kit in there."
    "Better go grab it while you still have alone time with him," Aiello mused.
    "Shut up," I threw my empty ration can at him, splattering a little broth on his cheek.
    "It wouldn't be true if you didn't react."
    I ignored him as I left the fire pit and returned to the command tent. Pierson was looking over some papers and his eyes darted to the entrance as I arrived. His eyes narrowed.
    "I said ten minutes."
    "I forgot my kit," I motioned over to the messy pile of supplies.
    Pierson dipped his head. "It was taking up needed space."
    I crossed the distance to the table, organizing the supplies as I packed them in the container. "Well now it'll be out of your way, won't it?"
    Pierson only waved a hand, focusing back on his maps. I finished putting everything together and then made sure to grab more fever reducers. I held out my hand to him, expecting him to retaliate.
    "Take these for extra caution. Please."
    Pierson didn't argue as he shoved the pills in his mouth and swallowed them. I gave him a small smile and a nod, proud he wasn't arguing for once. Pierson reverted his eyes back to the plans and orders.
    "Davis is ordering direct attacks now that we executed Kraut plans with the explosives," Pierson grumbled. "We don't have the firepower."
That never stopped you before. "Request more men?"
    Pierson shook his head. "Wouldn't go over well."
    "Then you make do," I pressed my hands on the table, gazing at the lines drawn towards the last bridge to the Rhine in Remagen.
    Pierson copied, glaring at me from his position. "No shit."
    I couldn't help but smirk; it was getting dangerous when I thought his seriousness was attractive. "Whatever you decide, we'll follow."
    "Any smart soldier would."
    I nodded and then moved away from the table, hating the twinge in my gut that occurred when his stare became unbearably fierce. Pierson blinked, returning his gaze to the papers before him.
    I said nothing as I picked up the med kit and then headed for the tent flap. His gaze followed, but I only glanced over my shoulder. His eyes spoke millions of words I couldn't translate and I felt a smile slip onto my lips again.
    I liked the Pierson only I got to see.

--•--•--•--

Pierson is really coming around with Ava isn't he? That fever really messed his shit up, huh?
Sorry it's a little shorter, but it's a double-update weekend to make up for the wait! 😘
Song: I Know Your Secrets by Tommee Profitt (ft. Liv Ash)
~MS~