Imagines. | Band of Brothers [𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗡]

24 hours in paris. | lipton

"First," he smiled, "You don't have to call me sir for now. Second, I know exactly what you mean." Carwood looked you in the eye and sighed, "But if Winters says it's what's best for all of them, then we go to Paris."

Nodding your head, you turned back to your book, and the two of you sat quietly till you reached Paris. The silence between you was not uncomfortable. Carwood was an intelligent man with a kind heart, and you were sure he was as worried about his absence even more so than you were worried about yours. All the men, and yourself looked up to him for guidance when Winters was not around.

As the train stopped at the railway station, you turned to pick up your bag when you realized it was gone. "Shit," you muttered, standing quickly to see someone else's bag on the ground where your had been previously, "Someone confused their stuff for mine."

Carwood's eyes widened, making sure he had heard you right. Quickly picking up his stuff, the two of you looked around at the people exiting the train till your eyes spotted it. "There!" he exclaimed, weaving his way through the hoards of people who had just arrived in Paris. You stumbled out of the train, bumping into a few people who scowled in your direction.

You apologized to nearly everyone you two had bumped on your way as Carwood rushed towards the man. Nearly tripping, you balanced yourself by spreading your arms forward, mumbling a quick désolé to everyone in your path. Other than angry grunts and curses, nobody did anything further as the two of you were in your uniform.

You saw Carwood place a firm hand on the man's shoulder, the young man turning to face him with wide eyes, terrified. Panting, he pointed at the man's bag and the man's mouth fell agape, smacking his forehead with his hand and switching your bag with his that Carwood had been carrying.

You breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the man profusely, you turned to Carwood, who despite breaking a sweat, had a smile plastered on his face. "That was exciting," he grinned, tilting his head towards the exit, "Calmed my nerves a little bit. Should we go get lunch?" And that was the end of it.

"Lip," you said, smiling up at him, "Thank you so much for going after him." He barely looked your way as he replied.

"Anytime, Y/N."

***

The two of you sat in a cafe. Carwood was busy writing down something into his notebook, occasionally glancing up to see you heartily eating your sandwich. His food remained untouched. "You're not going to eat?" you asked him, nodding towards his plate, "It's probably cold by now."

"Can't," he mumbled, still writing stuff down into his leather notebook, "I'm writing down what had happened in Carentan, for documentation of course." Carwood tapped his temple with his pen. You shrugged and picked up your mug of coffee. You were surrounded by many other soldiers who were also sent to Paris for break. It was common for them to come in groups, unlike the two of you who only came in a pair.

You lifted your cup to take a sip, when suddenly, a waiter carrying a tray of food bumped into your back, causing you to spill the contents of your mug all over yourself. Cursing to yourself for the second time of the day, you stood, haphazardly placing the mug on the table. Carwood looked up at you and grabbed a napkin, slowly dabbing at your coat as best as he could. He helped you take it off, and you looked down at your stained shirt.

"Aw, shit," you grumbled, your white shirt stained brown. The waiter apologized, offering to get you more coffee and more napkins. You brushed him off, but Carwood smiled at him and graciously accepted the man's offers, calming the waiter down. You watched him, amazed and how calmly he handled the situation while you had stood there fuming the entire time.