Dear diary, today I woke up to see Snafu peeking over the top of the trench watching me sleep again. He says he just wants to keep an eye on me, and I figure it’s best to let him do it since it seems to cheer him so. I have noticed he doesn’t keep an eye on any of the other marines, but I am sure he is simply doing it when I am not around. He spends a lot of time offering me random things lately - cigarettes, dead Jap teeth, pretty rocks - and I take them because it seems to make him so happy to give me things. He insists he will provide for me. I do not know what that is intended to mean, and the Jap teeth sure are disturbing, but I would hate to hurt his feelings. He seems like a gentle sort.
Sledge/Snafu; PG; exploring Snafu’s head. Elegant and poetic, this fic is genuinely breathtaking.
Because of the way the machine gun fire had hammered like a startled heart.
Because you were mud-soaked and his voice sounded like Alabama; because he sounded clean.
Because a man’s mouth had glinted gold and someone dug in with their knife, and because the screams had scraped your bones you took your sidearm and beckoned your finger towards you, the shot like a book slamming shut -
Well. You are still staggering from the recoil of a weapon you fired long ago.
I LOVE YOU THIS MUCH:
it started with this
“You looking forward to being deployed?” Edward asks and Eugene turns his head to actually look at Snafu because he’s suddenly interested in this answer.
Snafu blinks slowly once, looks from Edward’s face to Eugene’s and his smile is dry.
“Sure,” he says, and it’s not really an answer at all. Eugene wants to press him for something more definitive but the Cowboys score a touchdown and the conversation is lost.
HOW IS THIS ALL THERE IS?!