Thanks to jezzaz for the really cool idea of the 750 Word Project. It was a fun challenge! Thank you to blackrandl1958 for editing, and thank you to my other friends for looking it over. Hope you enjoy.
*****
I watched him from the bed. He packed his bag with admirable efficiency; I could never fold my clothes so well or so tidily. His eyes never strayed from his task and his expression showed no emotion. He was staying strong for me, and I also knew he was afraid.
Bright sun fell on the floor in neat stripes. His bronze hair glinted in its light and I wanted to run my hands through it, mess it up, tug on it, take out my frustration. His silence was provoking me, which was wildly unfair.
It had been exactly one hour since the soldiers banged on the door and gave him his papers. He was being drafted to fight in the war, a fear I'd felt ever since I watched the bombs falling on our TV. That was when we had TV.
"Your turn," their faces seemed to say, but all they really said was, "Be prepared. We will be back tomorrow morning."
We didn't speak once they left. He went directly to our bedroom and I followed, aching to hold him but knowing that was the last thing he wanted. I climbed back into bed and just stared, devastated. I had to be strong, as strong as he was, but I didn't know how. We both knew what the war meant. He would likely never return. It seemed our world was destined to fight each other until the end, no matter how pointless it all was, until every person was dust and no winner was left. There was no hope.
Eventually, he finished and turned to look at me. "I don't want to leave you."
I knelt on the bed so I could be eye level with him. "I don't want you to leave, either."
"It's going to be dangerous for you. People will know you're on your own now."
I put my hand on his cheek. He leaned into my touch. "I'll be okay."
