"Lt, you look pale, are you feeling alright?"
"I am fine, colonel. You have three more reports due, please do not stall and finish with haste sir"
"Must you be that cold, Lt?"
"Colonel, I will be wanting those after I return from the washroom, So please Start on them now"
Right outside the door, Lt slummed against the concrete pillar. The sickening clench that has been rubbing her stomach is getting unbearable and in many ways suicidal. She knew that it would come again one day, but she had not expected it to recur during the militaries most busiest weeks, the colonel would be in office most of the time and she would have to accompany him. At that very thought the pain increased dramatically as though reminding her that it was still there listening in to her most fearful thoughts. Her hands rested on the very spot hurting her trying in vain to coax it away, it was not working. The pale must have shown on her face, it must have been very obvious if the colonel had noticed. All the effort in trying to hide nearly went down the drain. Knowing her superior difficulty to concentrate on work too well, it was about time to return to his side "babysitting" she calls it. Breathing deeply, she held on to the handle of the door as steady as possible with the rest of her body shivering as though winter had hit her. The Lt released her grip on the handle and her arms fell to her sides lifelessly, it was already winter. Days and nights had passed so fast without her realizing it was probably the shock she received in spring that made her forget about the time. It was so impatient; one year is probably going to be over soon, very soon everything…
"Lt? Are you alright?" the voice spoke and a light tap on the shoulder brought her back to reality. She turned to find Jean havoc leaning on the same concrete pillar with a lighted cigar hanging from his mouth, a sense of worry written all over his face. Breathing deeply, she pushed all her hanging thoughts back into the deepest creek of her mind- that's right, it is the busiest week. She should not be thinking that much. Her face creased into a frown.
"You know very well that smoking is not allowed, Havoc." She preached, her fingers wrapped around the thin cigar and pulled it out from between his lips. Havoc lips pursed into a short smile, "Yeah, I know". Havoc took the cigar back from Riza fingers and put the tiny flame out, "Well, it was fun when it lasted." Riza blinked, "If you knew that I was going to stop you, why do you still smoke?" She fold her arms, even with the butt doused, the stench lingers. Never in her life was she that curious for the answer, so many times previously she had saw havoc smoking carelessly during meetings, ignoring even the deadly threats of the colonel to put the flame out or else. In that case, no mattered whoever told him off; she had never noticed havoc ever putting out the flames for them.
Havoc ruffled his hair, his eyes dazed. "I guess it was because it was YOU, Lt." Riza blinked rather furiously, not due to the weirdness of that sentence even though it was but it was because of the ashes of the cigar. It was getting to her eyes irritating her. But wait- do cigars have this much ashes? The afternoon sunlight shone in from the windows, it was blinding. She could feel the cold concrete poking her back, there was dust everywhere. Everything is in a blur, that strange stench was overpowering. Her hands were frozen cold, at last she realized. This was not the cigar; this was not because of the sentence. The last ashes covered her vision, darkness took over. She could feel herself falling, falling…her knees hit on something hard, she guessed was the floor. Where is everyone, there is no one.
A voice so far away, warm and full of panic, images flew into her mind, a familiar tall person with messy black hair. "Lieutenant!" it called. And then it stopped, silence…