Love: Military Style

Love: Military Style Chpt. 2

Weeks later, after the bizarre and rude encounter, I had obsessed over Mr. Military, a nickname I had dubbed him after he talked about having completed a tour. He was constantly on my mind, with his broad shoulders, slim waist, and perfect muscles.

It wasn't fair that he was such a hottie. I was completely average. The only abnormal thing was my munchkin height. I was only 4'8". My hair was crazy curly, and a normal dark brown color. I had pale skin, and normal freckles. My eyes were my favorite part about me though. In a completely average and normal package, my eyes popped. They were a steel grey, and slightly tilted at the corners, relaying a slightly feline aura. 

We would never work. I needed to stop obsessing over a dude I only met once, and move on with my boring life.

*****

"He never got up. We live on the cusp of death, thinking that it won't be us. It won't be us. It won't be us. Nah! It won't be US!"

Turning down my radio which blasted Macklemore, I focused on the street I was on. Homework runs were my specialty, and I owed the guy that I was currently dropping homework off to. 

He was my best friend. We had met in 7th grade, and stayed tight after he punched a bully in the face for calling me "teeny." David became my protector, and I became his advice guru. 

I felt incredibly guilty as I stopped in front of his house. It was kinda my fault that he was sick. We had been snowboarding, and I didn't want to stop. Ignoring the fact that his shirt was soaked after having wiped out a few times without a jacket, I made him do more runs. Hence, the pneumonia. It was irrational to feel at fault, but I still felt it. Dropping off his homework was the least I could do for the poor guy. 

I hopped out of my car, searching my key chain for the key to David's. His mom gave it to me freshman year when I locked myself out of my house and had to chill at David's until my forgetful Uncle came home. 

Opening the door, I looked around at the picture frames that adorned the entry way. I shut the door and slipped off my boots. They were the cutest things ever, combat boots but girlied up with studs and a silver embroidered flower on the sides.

I tiptoed downstairs, heading for David's room. Waiting for his muffled reply, I shifted his books to my hip to free a hand. When his reply came, I burst into his room.

"Your books are heavy dammit. I hate you for getting sick! Who am I supposed to fuck with now?" I whined as I set his books and papers on his spotless desk. His room was clean and neat. The walls were a light green, and covered in a montage of pictures of us and other friends, posters of girls in bikinis, and artwork. David was an incredible artist, and he was going to some hoity-toity art school after graduation. I couldn't be a prouder best friend. 

I plopped down into the spinny chair and glared at him. His normal olive skin was chalky, and he had stubble covering his jaw. It masked the sharp line, but enhanced his cheekbones. Brown eyes looked out from under brown bangs, the exact same color and shape as his mother's. Usually they were bright, but today they were dull, and surrounded by dark, almost bruise like circles.

"You need the exercise. I miss you too munchkin. I'll be back soon," he replied in a rasping voice.

"Do you want anything? Something to eat, drink? Drugs?" I softly said, feeling the stupid guilt return.

Damn him for getting sick. Damn me for making him sick.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like some chicken noodle soup," he murmured.

"This is only because you're sick, and one of the few people I like. I'll even heat it in a pan, all fancy like," I joked as I headed for the door. He simply smiled at me as I left.

I pulled out my phone, only for it to slip and fly out of my hand and land behind the couch I was passing. Cussing under my breath, I slid down to my knees to retrieve the slippery bastard. My fingers brushed it a few times without luck, and I considered just leaving it. Then I thought about my texting addiction and renewed my efforts. Finally reaching it, I stood up, thanking my lucky stars that  I hadn't had to move the couch. 

Suddenly, a hand was clapped over my mouth, and an arm was wrapped around my waist, effectively cutting off any escape.

*****

Hey guys! This is my first story, let me know what you think! Please, don't be too harsh, I'm just messing around! Any suggestions? What did you love/hate??? Comment and tell me what you want to see. I'm not sure how long this is going to be, depends on where my mind goes and what you guys want! Thanks!