lesson / confession / i need you be near me
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In five years, Eugene had run over this exact scene in his mind too many times to count. Sometimes, he’d yell. He’d curse him out, hit him if he was feeling particularly pissed off that day. Try and get it through his thick, mad skull that waking up alone on that train was the final nail in a coffin that Eugene had taken too long to claw out of. Other times, Eugene imagined embracing him, breathing in the familiar smell of sweat and gun oil as he silently forgave him for it all.
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Snafu, he was still a jagged edge, nerves raw and open and stinging under the salt of the bay. Uncomfortable, with his hunched shoulders and darting eyes, in a way that was almost nauseatingly familiar. Eugene touched his pinky finger to the back of Snafu’s hand, the two of them sat knee to knee, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, facing the sea. Snafu’s mouth lifted in a smile, and he caught Eugene’s finger in his hand before he could move it away.
“Penny for them.” He murmured, and Eugene thought of the Alabama sun, of talk of death and war.
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