She paused before sighing, pulling the blanket up. She was cold from the outside, her skin rosy and cool to touch. “I just... I’m worrying, I guess. About the mission. I wish... I wish I was the only one going.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand, Francis. I mean, I was in quite a bit of danger as a medic, but the soldiers who went out onto the field... most of them didn’t come back.”
"But you weren't there, Francis!" she said, pulling away to look at him, obviously distressed. "They had a period of time before they left the camps everyday so that they could call home, just so they could say goodbye in case they died!"
"You could not go," she told him pleadingly. "Say that you can't be pulled out of your current job. Please."
Her voice broke as she spoke. "Francis, please," she said, not meeting his gaze. "I can't... I can't watch you die."
His own voice cut in, scolding and stern. "I'm not going to die, okay? It's not happening. I do know that."
"But you don't know that!" she said, tears filling her eyes. She closed them, determined to press them back before they could slip past her eyelashes. Her voice got faster as she spoke, her chest rising and falling with panicked breaths. "You don't know that, Francis! You can't just say that it won't happen because it might and if it does then I'm not going to know what to do because I just can't. I can't do this without you."
He took her hands, his fingers slipping between hers. "Well, I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen. I'm going to be careful. I promise.."
Her hands were cold. She shuddered, bringing their intertwined fingers to her lips and lightly kissing his knuckles. "I can't lose you, Craw. I just... I can't."
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face in his neck. "I love you, Francis Craw."
She sighed, leaning her forehead against his sternum. "I didn't sleep last night," she told him, "so I might take a nap. But you don't have to stay."
