Ad Astra Per Aspera [2] - Band of Brothers

64 | falling snow

" But without the dark we wouldn't know the warmth of the light." 

- Unknown 

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Lizzie watched his gentle eyes, as he sat on her childhood bed, shoes kicked off, as the light from the nearby flickering candle seemed to illuminate his face. His eyes were so warm, like a milk chocolate swirling behind them - and how relaxed his features were. They had been so tense in war, and seeing him against the soft light of the night she thought was even more beautiful than she could've imagined. 

Lizzie looked down into her hands and sighed softly, briefly looking to where Floyd's hand lay gentle on her bent knee, in her criss-cross position in front of him. His gentle thumb brushed softly against her knee, soothing her, as unwanted anxiety filled her system. She wanted to tell him every single thing - everything. But the fear that he would grow annoyed with her cumbersome thoughts and believe it were annoying. 

No. She had to tell herself, that was not Floyd.

" You okay?" he asked quietly, as her eyes caught on the snow that fell outside the window. She remembered the blood that had decorated the snow, the bitterness that had made her feel like there was no imminent escape. The blood had dripped over her fingertips, drenching them in the dark crimson color that she once wore in a dress to a church party. 

Now she saw it as a color that signaled death and war and violence and fear with masked emotions. 

Floyd watched her as she looked out the window - he could watch her like that for hours he felt, her gaze so focused on the falling snow, so gentle, like he could reach out and touch her and would feel the warmth she possessed. But he could see the pain that swam in her eyes - she tried to hide it, he knew she was good at hiding it. 

But Floyd had been with her on D-Day, and he had been with her the day the war had ended. 

She knew pain and he did too.

" The snow..." she whispered as pain filled his heart watching her mind reverberate to Bastogne in that moment, " it..."

" Hey," whispered Floyd, as she slowly turned to him, watching his eyes, trying to hold the steady gaze she had struggled to even look at her parents with.

" Floyd..." she whispered, shaking her head, as tears welled her big, blue eyes," I see them every night. They're faces. The ones I couldn't save - just a boy dying out in the middle of nowhere."

" Some parents never even got their son or daughter home," she managed, shaking her head, as she sniffled," they thought they would too." Floyd was quiet, watching her eyes, wanting her to tell him every burden that seemed to suck her into the ground, so for a moment, she could walk light as a feather and he could bear her pain so that she wouldn't have to feel it anymore.