@disintegratiive //
she’s young, he can tell, old enough that he could come talk to her. he knew who she was; her head held high and a fight in her eyes. everything that he wanted to figure out. “ so. “ he tips a drink at her. “ how’s it hangin? “

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@disintegratiive //
she’s young, he can tell, old enough that he could come talk to her. he knew who she was; her head held high and a fight in her eyes. everything that he wanted to figure out. “ so. “ he tips a drink at her. “ how’s it hangin? “
@disintegratiive,
he turns to look at her once they get settled in, a small smile on his lips. “ this is a really good birthday present, sweetheart. “ he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “ -- thank you. again. “ it was -- quiet. it was nice -- though he knew he would miss the kids by the end of it, it was simple right now.
@disintegratiive
he’s seen her a few times; a nurse on the front lines of the war, running back and forth to help the wounded. but what she doesn’t know -- or, more like what she doesn’t know he knows -- is when dresses in a man’s outfit and goes into the fray, her aim sharp, her wit quick. he’s found himself following after her, making sure that she stayed safe until she went back into the nurses quarters once more to help.
but there are some things he can’t do as a person that are meant for his shifting; they called it america’s ghost, slipping in and out as a black wolf and tearing throats along his way. it was becoming myth among the men, and for those who had seen it, they were deemed as something greater to be rescued by him. really -- it was just the time and the place. there were people that he would like to protect more then others, but sometimes he ended up saving more then he thought he could.
but it was his secret. and -- as of right now -- it was hers, too. he couldn’t help but shift back when the bullet hit the side of his head, his hearing gone momentarily, body shifting back as he laid in the grass. smoke around them, he sees her lean over him, hand shaking as she reaches out. still disguised, but nothing could hide those blue eyes.
@disintegratiive
he does see her again. this time, in her hospital gown and not soldier’s gear. but still the same is that he’s injured; not as badly as last time, but still warranting a visit to the medic’s tent. it was already healing, but the bruises, dark and ugly, would fade slowly. they kept saying he was lucky the explosion didn’t hurt him anymore then cuts and bruises.
when she comes round to him, he grins wide, pleased at seeing her. “ miss josephine. “ he drawls out. “ fancy meeting you here. “
@disintegratiive
after their hall meeting, he doesn’t see much of her again. coming in, sometimes walking past the gym, that was all. but when shilah learns that she’s in the same building, he’s too pleased. his only comment is a wow, how coincidental, and roman knows that the gears in his head are turning. and when he comes home one night to see a dog happily wagging its tail while none other then josephine pets him, roman almost screams.
“ don’t. “ he tells josephine, pushing the dog with his foot. “ he’s just skulking around. he doesn’t need the attention. “
@disintegratiive
they make it all through the night without going to one another. he doesn’t know how, and he doens’t know what josephine and roman talk about, but when he hears roman go for his morning jog shilah finally decides that he sholuld go in there and apologize to her.
the door is open, and he leans against it for a long moment, looking at her back before he just decides fuck it and crawls into bed with her. his face close to hers, the blanket tucked all the way over her nose, he looks at her closer. “ i’m sorry. “
@disintegratiive
as nice as it is to spend the night with her, to spend time with her, they share their intimate moment and then he’s sent away. it’s a bit of a sting, like work knew what they were doing and pulling him back into a different focus, but his mind is wrapped around her already. two weeks later, when he finally gets home, he almost collapses on the couch with relief. the dogs are happy too, sniffing him and nuzzling him and showing them that they loved him. ( he knew they loved their babysitter just as well. )
he ends up falling asleep when the doorbell rings, and he lifts up his wristlet to get an image. josephine. he clicks to open the door right away, calling for her to come in.
@disintegratiive
for the first time, he feels like he has more of a bonding moment with her as a human and not a beast. they talk a little bit until he pulls up to her door, and she tells him thank you and goodbye. it’s -- well, maybe not so much of a bonding moment as it is him wanting it to be, but at least it was something.
the next time he asks to take her home, he gets a look over her glasses. and a prolonged amount of silence. but she says yes, and he grins, and plans for what to do until the am hours come to ride with her.
the conversation is much the same as last time; she’s quiet and short, and they don’t delve into anything but surface level stuff. nothing like their nightly visits where she opened up to him as he laid his head on her lap, soaking in her voice and her comfort. he wished he could do that now, have his head fall in her lap and feel her fingers through his hair. but that was too much wishing, and they simply say a goodbye as she exited the car.
he sits there for a moment, watching her go through the doors of her apartment building, before he lets out a long groan. this wasn’t how he wanted things, and if he could tell her --
his ears catch a noise inside the building, a yell that he knows because he knows her voice, and he’s out the door and shifting before he thinks any better of it. shoving into the door, he listens, hears them on the steps. another shove through the door and he jumps up, roaring loudly as a man pushes josephine against the wall.