@vvarriorhearted
Head slumps between shoulders, a rare show of vulnerability. A crack in the ever present mask the General is forced to adorn. The impenetrable persona of the great General, His Excellency, commander and chief of the Continental Army. But that is a not a man, none of those things are, they are a persona he must put forth if they are to have any chance at all. The weight of such a thing had been eating away at George, the man. The one that showed himself now before his wife. Her tender touch upon his shoulder is what had caused the crack, allowed the man to come through. He turns his head and braces his arms upon his bent knees. He reaches, finds her small slender hand in one of his own, large, brutish. He holds it with a delicacy he would offer no other. “My dear, forgive me if I am not esteemed company this evening.”
