The Demon's Whispers

28- One word

When my eyes open the next morning, I do not come face to face with Rambo or my lounge, I find myself in bed alone, with no real idea on how I got here. A golden glow basks the bedroom, signalling the first light of the day and the eerie quiet that follows has my chest heave. I have no doubt that Cody has gone home, back to his wife.. I still get a bitter taste over that.

But as I swing my legs off the bed and stand up, I find a pillow at the end of the bed. I frown and slowly make my way to the end of the bed to find a small blanket folded neatly beside it.

So he stayed but slept on the floor? The blanket was folded and the pillow didn't look used. Perhaps he changed his mind then?

Shutting my own mind down, I left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. My throat felt thick with sleep and the mere thought of a cold bottle of water sounded like heaven.

Snagging one from the fridge, I passed back through my home. Seeing no signs of Cody or our movie night last night and settling on the idea that he went home in the early hours.

Guzzling back half a bottle, I tossed it on my bed and went straight into my bathroom to shower, rubbing all remnants of sleep out of my eyes whilst hoping some serious hair conditioning could tame the chaos of my bedhead. When a yell in fright made my head snap up and my eyes widen in fear.

"Get out!!" Cody yelled trying to cover himself.

A towel was already around his waist, shaving foam was on one side of his face, the razor he had been using was somewhere in the room after he had thrown it. But my eyes zoned in on his as I froze. The look of terror in his eyes as he tried to cover his body had me confused.

"N-no." I stuttered.

It wasn't a no, I'm not leaving. It was a no for how he was reacting. This was Cody, the man who was never shy to stride about in a pair of boxers. Who had given my elderly neighbour a show once or twice, a old joke was that he caused her heart attack. Confident Cody..

"Please! Please, please!" He begged trying to hide himself behind a hand towel. Of all things.

I stepped forward, confusion still clouding my mind. My ears ignoring his protests until I stopped in front of him, seeing what he was hiding..

Silver streaks littered his body, some longer than others, some lines, some circular, dotted across his skin like...

My eyes moved to his face, which was downcast full of shame, that caused me to frown and instead of trying to make sense of it all, I gently took the hand towel causing his eyes to flash to mine.

"Plea-"

"Let me see them." I whispered, wrapping my fingers around the towel. Cody shifted on his feet before swallowing hard, his hand fell away from the towel, allowing me to hold it against his chest, until I was ready.

I didn't wait, I didn't do it slowly, I treated this like a bandaid. I ripped it off quickly, not that I was intent on being a heartless bitch, but prolonging his pain didn't seem fair.

My eyes landed on his torso, littered in the silver lines and circles. All different in sizes, some were higher than others, but they were all categorised the same..

Shrapnel scars.

Scars of the war, physically, emotionally and mentally. I heard once upon a time that no soldier went into the war and left the same. That each tour, something would happen that would scar them. Something would change their perspectives on life.

Forever topless, confident, beach and surf loving Cody was gone. Now was stood a man that was ashamed of his body. His scars. The same scars that he gained defending his president, his country. Our future...