Imagines. | Band of Brothers [𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗡]

secret crush. | floyd talbert

as requested by @lokifrommarvel on tumblr

***

Squinting, you gripped the pencil in your hand, making quick movements against the paper. You had your knees to your chest, your uniform pants folded to the ankle, and your feet damp and dirty.

You and the rest of your company had waded and swam in the lake, the crystal blue so clear you could see the rest of them if you dared open your eyes while under. The men laughed, chased each other, splashing water on their uniforms. You felt young again, standing in the water, the burdens of war far from your mind, carried with the currents.

Now, watching one of the men closely, you made light strokes, following the dip of his neck and the muscle on his shoulders. He was beautiful; That was an opinion you always had as you watched him through sneaky glances. And as he sat, his back against the tree and his legs stretched in front of him, you couldn't help but take out your pencil and paper from your bag to draw him.

"What are you doin', Y/L/N?" Perconte asked you, trying to sneak a peek at the paper flattened against your knees. You looked up, and the man you were drawing didn't flinch at the sound of your name, and you bit back a sigh.

You shook your head, trying to act nonchalant. "Just writing letters."

He smiled at you, then went back to talking to the other men. You tried to continue drawing, but Perconte covered your view of him, so you depended on your memory to guide you. Trying to draw his lips, you shut your eyes, occasionally glancing down at the paper in order to see if you were close. Far. You were so very far.

"Writing letters, huh?" a voice said behind you, and you flinched, shielding the paper with your arms. Floyd Talbert stood above you, leaning against the tree, his uniform shirt buttons popped open. "You got everything right, except for my mouth."

You blushed, and internally cursed how easy it was for you to turn red, but Floyd didn't say anything about it. Instead, he sat in front of you, glanced at the paper again, and copied his pose. "Should I look more to the left?"

At a loss for words, you nibbled on your bottom lip, until he repeated his question, and you shook your head, flustered. "No, that's perfect," you mumbled. You're perfect, you almost said. You almost expected him to make fun of you, but instead, the man sat perfectly still, his legs extended in front of him and his arms resting by his side.

It was much easier this time. He was so close, you noticed little details you wouldn't have had he stayed against a tree, so far away from you. You didn't notice the swoop of his hair, or the length of his eyelashes. He was even more beautiful up close, it almost made you breathless.

"I'm done," you announced, hugging the piece of paper to your chest. You weren't ready to show him. He would probably make fun of you now.

Floyd extended his hand towards you, but you hesitated. He smiled and tilted his head, and you fought so hard to launch yourself onto him. "Come on, I'm sure its good," he urged, a smile still plastered on his face. You couldn't say no to a smile like that. Giving in, you handed it to him, covering your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

You heard him gasp, and squeezed your eyes shut. "Woah, Y/N," Floyd murmured, nudging your calf with his elbow, "This is really, really good. You should've told me you could draw. I would've asked you to have done more for me ages ago."

"Really?" you asked, eyeing him curiously.

"Mhm," Floyd nodded, extending his hand once more, "I couldn't find a reason to talk to you. Hand me your pencil, would you?" You scrunched your eyebrows together,

"You don't need a reason to talk to me," you frowned, handing him another sheet of paper and your pencil, "I'm always here."

"Yeah?" he asked, looking at you once and then back down at the paper in front of him, "I always found you too good to talk to me."

You, too good? The words didn't seem like they belonged together, especially since you felt the same way about him. "That's not true," you shrugged then nodded towards the paper in his hands, "What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm drawing you," he grinned at you, his eyes crinkling, before staring back down at the paper in concentration, "Don't move."

Sitting there as still as stone, only your eyes moved, watching him carefully. His tongue stuck out, his eyebrows furrowed, and occasionally, he would sigh and erase something he had drawn. You weren't sure how much time passed, but eventually, he lifted up the sheet of paper to show you what he had drawn.

"Ta-dah!" he exclaimed, showing you a stick figure that probably didn't need that much time to draw. You couldn't help yourself and let out a loud laugh, throwing your head back. Floyd frowned, pressing the drawing against your extended hands. "Don't make fun of me, I didn't make fun of you."

He was right, but he looked too cute with his lower lip jutting out, his arms crossed over his chest. Floyd sat facing you now, admiring his work. "And," he started, lifting both of your drawings in the air, "They're actually really similar art styles. I could think you drew this."

The urge to laugh came once more, and you bit your knuckle to stifle it. "Aw, now you don't laugh?" Floyd frowned again, before quickly grinning to show you he was kidding, "And I thought I was funny."

"I like it," you told him, hugging his drawing of you, or what should've been you, to your chest, "I think it looks exactly like me." It was his turn to laugh, and he let it out so easily, it sounded like music to your ears. You made the Floyd Talbert laugh.

"Can I have this?" he asked you, lifting your drawing of him into the air. You nodded, and he stood, brushing off the dirt from his pants. "Thanks, Y/L/N." And just like that, he was gone. It was the first time you had ever spoken to your crush since Toccoa, and you let him leave.

Mentally cursing, you stood up as well, dusting yourself off. You walked, turning your back on the lake you had your first ever conversation with a man you've been in love with for 3 years.

You looked up, now, at the drawings that were framed and hung over your fireplace at your shared home. Floyd would tell everyone how he caught you, his secret crush, drawing, never teasing, but admiring you instead.

***

a/n: i was thinking of call me by your name the entire time i was writing this! i loved it.

thank you so much for reading, i hope you like this one. 

with love,

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