“We all know I’m a handsome son of a bitch.” The bullshit was up to his ankles now. “Been all right; tryin’ to get back into the swing of things. If we don’t get into some shit soon, I’m gonna end up with a nasty case of a cabin fever, though.” He fell in beside Rick, easily matching his pace. Their feet hit the pregnant soil – thak, thak, thak – in a rhythm that calmed Ezra, made him feel like he was where he belonged. “How’re you holdin’ up? Good leave?”
“Hey, no arguments from me.” The might have been a chuckle that followed but he still meant it. Nothing wrong with complimenting a fellow solider. There was a nod of his head at the other man’s comment. “I know the feeling. I’m itching to get back out there and get this war over and done with.” So he could go home to his mother and sister and maybe finally start his life with Charlie. He’d entered the war thinking he wouldn’t want to go back, his recklessness seeming to ensure he wouldn’t make it back. But things had changed - Charlie had changed it. So when his friend asks about his leave there’s a wide grin on his face. “Yeah, I’m good. Leave was great - spent most of it with Charlie doing the rounds of family.” There’s a little shrug to downplay it but after the scars Colette left it’s a big deal to him.
