Military Love » Harry Styles

chapter five

After he had introduced himself he moved to each one of us to allow us to introduce ourselves. His voice sharp and clear like a blade, but strong and loud as a lion's roar. "What is your name soldier?!" He yelled out in the face of the person next to me. The boy whimpered at the tone, directness and closeness of the sergeant. He quickly regained himself and almost in trance-form he said "Brad, Sir!". Clearly satisfied with his knowledge of etiquette on how to address a sergeant he cut the boy some slack and moved on.

I tore my glance away from the boy as I felt a pair of eyes from another sergeant glaring at me. I turned my face straight and was surprised to see Mr Styles standing right in front of me, his face dangerously close to mine.

"What is your name little girl." He grinned, emphasizing the word little as if to mock me. Though didn't yell in my face. His words hit my like metal. Little, little, little. His cologne smelled amazing, and its strong and wooden tones seemed to suit him.

"Violet" I whispered, trying not to offend him by speaking too loudly. I shuffled my feet together, trying to make myself as small and, non-existent, as possible. His toned biceps were clearly visible through his attire, although his presence made me feel sick of nausea.  

"Louder!" He yelled with a stern look on his face, temporarily damaging my ears. His eyebrows were furrowed, but I could not discern a particular emotion on his face. He stepped closer to me, I could feel his hot breath fanning on my cheeks. A shiver went down my spine.

"Violet!" I yelled, this time louder. I could hardly tell where I got the sudden boost of confidence from, but my voice seemed echo through the trees beyond us. And as if my voice had caused it, a sudden wave of fresh air rushed through the leaves. He raised an eyebrow, almost cocky. For the first time, I could see a clear emotion written all over his face.

"I", he paused, looking over to the other sergeants, almost as if asking for permission. "do not tolerate being talked at like that." Again a shiver went down my spine, a rush of adrenaline made me want to puke. What was I thinking. I remember my dad telling me the respect that was required when talking to military personell who were stations above you.  "Whenever you talk to me, you call me either sir or sergeant' And when you dare to speak to me ," He mocked. "You talk with confidence!"

I didn't know where to look. Looking downwards would probably be disrespectful but so will looking straight into his eyes, or at least so I read online. With my whole body I tried to beg to every God I knew the name of to take away the tears that were forming in the corners of my eye. Never look a sergeant straight into the eyes.

"Violet, sir!" I yelled ignoring his glance on me and I stared straight forward into the dusty distance of the camp. He stood a mere few inches away from me, and he smirked widely. He almost seemed content that he had gotten me to obey. And if I didn't know any better, I would argue that I could see a glint of evil graditude take over his red lips. Before turning away from me, he took a quick glance at my body and muttered something that I couldn't quite understand.

Next to me, the girl with the Prada bag stood with confidence and also a slight smile playing on her lips. "Something funny?" I heard Mr Styles growl from his spot, next to the girl with her book in her arms looking at the drapery ground. The heel of her heels crunched into the dirt on the ground, and the bottoms of those very same shoes had turned an ugly brown. She held her hands into her hips, a form of defiance.

"No Sir." She said still with a smirk on her face, she tried to hide, but failed. She quickly tore her hands down from her hips, as even she knew he was not the right man to be picking battles with. Sergeant Styles shrugged his shoulders and shook his head annoyed.