Episode 18 — I Think We Were Lovers (9)

Agathe turned and looked up at him. He bent down to meet her eyes.

His blue eyes, a little dim, looked lonely. Arguing here felt pointless.

“I’m sorry too,” she said with a firm face.
“I don’t want to fight.”

“When did we ever fight?” he asked calmly. It seemed he accepted her offer to make peace.

“Well, we didn’t, but still — it’d be nice if we just got along.”
“You were the one who sulked first, Agathe.”
“No, you apologized first.”
“Are you trying to say I started the fight?”

Ashley raised an eyebrow and teased her. Agathe kept her eyes on him and nodded. He made a mock-offended face.

“If that’s how you want to put it, fine — I’ll say I started it.” He rubbed her head like she was a child. Agathe’s face puckered at the gesture, and he laughed, bright and fresh.

As their eyes met, he cupped the back of her head with one hand and kissed her nose and cheeks — quick, affectionate pecks, like he thought she was the cutest thing ever.

“That tickles!” she said.
“So do I.” He kept kissing her without stopping.
“Feathers wouldn’t be this ticklish.”
“Please stop kissing me… really.” She begged him, embarrassed.

Only then did he stop. He looked pleased, his face softening into a smile that chased away the humid heat of the day.

Hout came by her quarters to check on her. He removed her brace and examined the shoulder with practiced hands.

“Lift your right arm slowly.”
Agathe obeyed.
“Now rotate it forward to back.”
“Oof.” Her upper arm twinged when she tried.

Her lower arm was fine, so she could still use her hand for small tasks, but anything detailed — like treating patients or giving precise injections — would be out for a while.

“We’ll remove the brace, but move the arm gently from now on.”
“Yes, Doctor Hout.”

Removing the brace meant the shoulder was starting to heal. Hope bloomed inside Agathe, and she asked carefully, “When will I be fully cured?”

“If you do rehab steadily, you’ll be fine in about six months.”
“Six months?” she repeated, surprised.

“Gunshot wounds take time,” Hout said it plainly, like it was no surprise. But Agathe couldn’t calmly wait six months. Field hospital patients usually either became military patients and were discharged or returned to their units. Some got transferred to military hospitals, but generally, there were only those two paths.

She wasn’t a soldier. As civilian medical staff attached to the army, hurt or sick staff usually got a small compensation and returned to civilian life. That meant she’d have to pay for any further treatment herself. If you had no family to wait for you, you’d also need a place to live.

Eliana had found out some of this in the last few days. Agathe sighed.

“I’ll tell the support office to find you somewhere to stay,” Hout said.
“R-Really?” she asked.
“I was about to ask you and file the request anyway.”
“Thank you, Doctor Hout.”

Her eyes prickled. If the brace came off, she’d have to leave the field hospital, and it felt scary — but Hout was arranging housing.

“It’ll take about a month to process the paperwork. Use that time to recover.”
“Okay.” Her face grew wet.

“Tell Nurse Eliana to give you painkillers if the pain gets worse,” Hout advised.
“It’s not that painful,” she said. At first, she’d taken painkillers once a day as the nurses gave them, but then learned they were rare in the field hospital. After she found out, she stopped taking them — thinking soldiers who’d been wounded in battle needed them more.

“If you can tolerate it, you don’t have to take them.” Hout left with the chart, and Agathe sat on the bed. Then the door opened.

“Captain?” she brightened and stood up.
“You took the brace off?” Ashley’s eyes went to her right arm. Her voice got choked but brave as she told him everything Hout had said, word for word.

Ashley listened silently, trying to read between the lines. Would the paperwork mean she’d have a place to stay, or that she could stay in the field hospital another month? He couldn’t tell, and his brow tightened.

“Captain?” Agathe asked, seeing him lost in thought.
“Is something bothering you?”
“Did my face show it?” she asked.

He knew he rarely showed emotions, so she asked.
“Yes, you look worried.”
“Is that so?” He tried to cover it with a faint smile.

Agathe tilted her head, as if reading his thoughts. She seemed to notice moods he thought he hid well. Ashley narrowed his eyes, then smiled softly.

“You look like you’re forcing a smile.”
“Oh, really?” she said.
“Yes. Your eyes aren’t smiling.”

Agathe, innocent and direct, kept probing him. Ashley surrendered a small smile and stroked her face.

“How do I look now?” he asked teasingly.
“You look… good,” she answered, blushing a little. He leaned close enough that she could feel his breath and kissed the skin above her eye.

His lips brushed her nose and grazed her mouth. Her eyes widened and fluttered closed, caught in a strange, thrilling breath. When their lips parted, his scent filled her mouth. It was dizzying and wonderful. Her heart pounded like a drum.

She wanted to keep clinging to him. The kiss left her cheeks flushed. Ashley gently smoothed her lower lip with his thumb, wiping the wetness from where it glistened. The touch was delicate and kind.

“Ah.” Agathe breathed softly. Ashley watched her intently.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she lied, avoiding his gaze. But he noticed the little sigh and pressed.

“Tell me. Don’t hide it — your face says everything.”
“It’s just… I felt weird.” She couldn’t bring herself to say that kissing him made her so happy she could cry. Saying it out loud felt like it would blow that fragile happiness away.

“How weird?” he asked as if trying to figure it out himself. His expression grew deep and a little troubled.

Agathe blushed but decided to be honest. If he misunderstood and worried, she’d feel worse. She needed to tell him.