Page 207 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

He shrugs.

“The end result was good. We didn’t have a lot of planes go down. But for that we had to make certain maneuvers.”

“We or you?” I raise a brow.

Another shrug.

“I did what I had to do for my men.”

“Mine!” I grit out. “You promised you’d be careful.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? And a lot of good men will live to see their families. My mission isn’t only to bomb German factories but also to take care of the men under my command.”

“So you exerted yourself too much, didn’t you?”

“Come, Minnie, don’t be mad, all right?” He lifts his lips in a smile as he gathers me in his arms. “I missed you,” he whispers against my hair. “It feels good to have someone to come back to, something to fight for.”

My heart skips a beat, and I blush furiously at his words. He certainly knows how to make his case. And the fact he’s such an honorable soldier makes me even more proud of him. I might be mad that he’s putting himself in danger, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect his choices.

Good male.

“Now I just need a bath to wash off the sweat. Help me?”

“W-what?” I stammer. “I’m certain you can b-bathe yourself.”

“Usually, yes. But I find myself quite tired. And I won’t be able to wash my back properly. Will you do it for me?”

When he puts it like that…

“All right,” I accede.

“And my hair, you can wash my hair too.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes.

“And—”

“That’s enough. Don’t push your luck,” I warn.

He chuckles.

On the way to the bathroom, he sheds the rest of his clothing before turning on the water and getting inside the tub.

It’s a small one, not really meant for lying inside, especially for a big male like him. But he makes do, sitting with his knees to his chest, which makes it much easier for me to ignore that growing part between his legs.

Turning in the faucet, I take a small bucket and fill it to the brim. First, I pour it over his head and back before I lather some shampoo in his hair. I work my fingers through his locks, massaging his scalp.

He lets out a long sigh of contentment as he leans into my touch.

“I hate the war,” he admits quietly. “I hate that so many innocent people have to die.”

“And I hate that you’re always in danger. Do you think it will end anytime soon?”

“It will. But by that point too many will have died.”

“I know your intentions are noble, Mine. But you can’t save them all.”

“That’s what guts me.” His voice is low and broken and something shatters inside of me. We’ve never talked much aboutthe emotional side of the war and the toll it takes on him, but I can only imagine.

---