Silas

They call it the Proximity Rule: don’t shit where you eat, and definitely don’t fall for your CO’s little sister. Especially when we are deployed to a dust-choked Forward Operating Base in the middle of nowhere. She isn’t just a nurse; she’s a civilian contractor attached to our med-unit, meaning she’s untouchable. But since she stepped off that bird, looking like a beacon of color in a world of beige and grey, I haven't been able to sleep. My job is to watch for threats outside the wire, but lately, the only thing I’m tracking is her. I’m obsessed with a woman I’m sworn to protect but forbidden to touch. I know how many breaths she takes in a minute when she’s stressed. I know she ties her hair up with a green clip when she’s about to triage a patient, and she lets it down only when she thinks no one is looking. I know these things because I watch her. I tell myself it’s for security. I tell myself that because she’s Elias’s sister, her safety is my personal mission. But that’s a lie. The truth is darker. It’s a hunger. It’s the way the dust settles on her skin and makes me want to wipe it away with my thumb. Elias told me on day one, "She's off-limits, Ghost." I nodded. I lied. Because in my head, she’s already mine. I’m just waiting for the war to quiet down long enough to tell her.