Work Text:
Pretty picture you are.
Prettiest picture I ever saw, standing there shrouded in that fine Italian mist. Best you've looked in a while.
I'd put you in a museum if I thought it'd keep you safe any.
That's where you'll end up anyway, when this is all over.
Even if it's not where you belong. 'Cause, if I'm truthful, and wouldn't that be funny, the truth coming from the dirty lips of a jealous fucker like me? If I'm truthful, you'd belong with me. Don't think it's too nice of me to think stuff like that, but truth is, it's part of me now.
I talk like I'm going to get out of this war sometimes. But that's a lie, and here's the truth; I'm not. Somewhere there's a man with a bullet and it's got my name etched so deep on its casing that no one'll be able to get it out. And I'll be sorry, so, so sorry to leave you, but I can't see it any other way.