Makin' Plans (hbo war imagines)

12. Carwood Lipton; Fireworks

The first one went off in the distant, and you watched Carwood's body stiffen at the sound. As the sun sank, more went off in succession.

His eyes squeezed shut so hard that stars burst across his eyelids. Stars reminiscent of the fireworks bursting across the sky. He was shaking.

Shaking so, so bad.

Another boom only worsened the tension in his body.
__________

The day had begun like the typical 4th of July. Blue skies. Quick grocery runs for last minute things. Summer heat. Grills being prepared.

"I missed this," he had mused in the kitchen that morning.

You beamed, nodding in agreement. "I did too."

It was both of your's first 4th celebration since returning from the war oversees. You two had spent countless days together—fighting side-by-side or huddled together in a foxhole—so when the idea of a life together post-war was tossed into the open, neither of you were surprised or hesitant.

Your parents had invited you both over for the holiday, and it had been a good day. The sun kept everyone either in the shade or in some water, and the air smelled like the countless barbecues happening all over the country.

He was getting to know your family, and they were getting to know the man that made sure you came home.

You hadn't been known this simple pleasure before. It kept a smile on your face.
__________

You were quick to slip your hand into his and pulled his body into yours. Your other hand went to his back, gently reminding him that you were there.

"It's actually fireworks this time," you whispered. "They're way up in the sky."

His eyes opened, and he took a deep breath. You could tell he'd been holding it, waiting for something to follow the sound of the explosives.

He back away from you and blinked. "I know."

You nodded. "I know you do." You kept a hold on his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can watch them from inside, through the window."

He paused, flinching slightly when another one went off in the distance, before slowly nodding. "I don't want you miss out."

"I never cared for the noise anyway. We can see them perfectly from that window right there." You pointed to the window looking into your parent's living room. "I used to do it all the time."

You led him into the house, discreetly shaking your head in response to your mother's look of concern. Taking him to the couch that sat under the window, you tucked your legs under you to sit backwards on it.

He followed your actions and silently watched the now muffled bursts of color through the glass.

You watched him for what felt like an eternity, before turning to see the fireworks yourself. Every now and then, your eyes would wander to his awed expression, washed in pinks, blues, and greens at each new explosion.

Definitely based off many factors. This was all I could think of yesterday at work while I was mopping bc we could see and hear fireworks from the door. This has probably been done before tho?? So please let me know if I'm unknowingly snatching someone's plot. M'kay.

~Mariah