Wounds hurt people but heal, scars never do (Open)

[Niamh Dunlevy]

Ohhhhhhh...s@%&...

Dear God, he knew Henry Patterson, and Henry Patterson was his commander. That probably meant that the American privates she had run into also knew Joe, and if they started bragging about the incident...

"Uhhhhhh...n-no reason," Niamh said nervously, looking down at the table. "I, uh...justh wanthed tho know...for my cousin. My cooousssinnnn...lives nearby, yeah. He's uh...he's a milithary buff, t'e lad is, and he's heard of him. He's, uhhh...workin'...at the harbour...shipping sthuff for the milithary. Yeaaaaaah..."

Feeling the heat in her face rise, Niamh quickly took a drink of cola, attempting to cool it back down. There was probably little a chance of him knowing of an odd-eyed, brown-haired girl who had lost a drinking contest and humiliated herself...Right? Right. She couldn't be paranoid, he'd be suspicious.

"But...yeah...we've meth..." she began slowly. "He...meth me ath 'not'er thown...yeaaaaaaaah..."

Was it hot in there, or was it just her? Or maybe even the cigarette smoke that was twirling up into the air from Joe's lit tobacco? Either way, it was getting warm - too warm.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Joe watched her, putting pressure on her, his eyes searching her. She was lying, he could tell that. ”Oh really?” he said, he didn’t really understand why she suddenly got nervous, her face was now becoming redder and redder, Joe bit his lip and shrugged, taking another drag from his smoke.

”He isn’t the nicest guy in the world.” he said, remembering the time when Joe and two mates had sped down a track, getting a bollocking from the commander, Joe wasn’t his favourite, but having said that, Patterson had been the man who had collected him from near death. He took a sip of his drink which was very refreshing, he looked up at her and saw that she was pretty hot in the face.

”You alright?” he asked, he didn’t feel hot at all, he felt fine, well as fine as he could be.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"Fine!" Niamh squealed, her voice a little too high-pitched as she spoke. "Fine, fine, perfectly fine. We've...met, yes...but uh...yeah. Ith's been a while...long while...since I saw him. Goththa...goththa work..."

"HEY!"

The Pavee could not help but stiffen as another American voice came. Two Privates came walking up, beer bottles in hand, looking half-drunk by the redness of their faces. Grinning madly, one leaned downwards, slamming his hand on the table and using it for support. Niamh glared daggers at him for that.

"Have we...met before, darling?" the Private asked, his best attempt at a winsome smile plastered all over his face.

"No," Niamh said flatly, sipping her Coke gingerly. "Go and find someone else to flirth wit', ya ape."

The two Privates laughed and made "oh-ho" sounds at each other, nodding quite stupidly. Niamh inched her chair away from them, her mismatched eyes hardening as she glared. These men wanted nothing but trouble, and to try and shoo them away, she growled, "I said, 'Find someone else to flirth wit'.'"

"Oh, but honey," the man began, his voice a bit too sweet, "don't you remember me? We met at a bar...a lovely little establishment, if it weren't for all those drunkards wandering about..."

"Whath do you mean, drunkards wandering abou - "

Niamh felt her face suddenly turn redder as hit her. Drunkards? Remembering? Americans? The bar incident...these Privates had been there!

Oh, double s@#!...

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post:

CP:
Niamh: 14CP

Stephen: 14CP


~Dan