threeletterslife
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“Soldier!”
Your head jerks up. And immediately, the tension, the heavy weight on your shoulders lift away.
It’s the General.
But there’s something different about him today. His posture is as shitty as ever, but it’s the way he’s holding himself—unguarded, relaxed… happy.
“I!” he announces, pointing at you with his finger. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Oh. He’s drunk.
“Have you?” Unbeknownst to you, a smile spreads on your face. “Pray tell why.”
“I must show my gratitude, soldier,” he says. He bows sloppily, nearly falling over doing so. Either the General had a little too much to drink or he’s just as much of a lightweight as his lieutenant. “You’re exactly what we’ve always needed,” he says. He’s so close to you that you can practically smell the alcohol on his breath. It’s not quite pleasant, but it is very amusing. “We needed someone to propose new methods and battle plans. We needed a fresh pair of eyes. New judgment.”
He stares at you, though he has quite a hard time making eye contact. You find that his stone-cold eyes have softened, losing their usual hardness.
You like this look on him.