Chapter 9: Danny, My Love

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 212

Chapter Three - Danny

I sat up. Danny’s eyes opened.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, then his hand gently rubbed my back. I closed my eyes, loving his touch. I felt him sit up, then he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. His lips pressed to my neck. I sighed happily.

"I was just thinking." I replied.


"Everything. About what to do."

"Have you decided?"

"Not at all."

"Are you glad you don’t have to worry about Shaun anymore?"

"I still wish father would let me kick his butt."

"You know you wouldn’t have a chance."

"I would if I was angry enough."

"I won’t let you either."

"Like you can stop me."

"I’ll stop you all right." He pulled me back so I was lying down then crawled over me. He pinned my arms above my head.

"Try to do it now."

"You can’t do this forever."

"I will if I have to. And if that can’t convince you to stay…" he leaned down and kissed me. Then he let my arms go and I wrapped them around his neck. His arms went under me, then pulled me so we were both sitting up. Desire fired up inside me again. Too strong. I pulled up my legs and put my feet at the brim of his sweat pants. He lay us down again. I slid my feet down his sides. His pants coming down with them. He pulled away.

"Stop it." He ordered. I sighed. He pulled up his sweat pants. "Not yet." He reminded.

"How are you so in control?" I asked, honestly curious.

He laughed. "Years of practice."
"I’m still in training, obviously."
"Very much in training." he agreed.

"Still, you’re only twenty. Even you have to slip up." I mumbled.


"Any time soon?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

He shook his head. "Not tonight if that’s what you mean."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just am."

"I wish I had your strength." I sighed.

"You have to work for it." He put his hand on my leg and massaged it.
"I keep getting these blasts of desire, and I feel like there’s no stopping."

"You can do it, I believe in you."

"But I don’t want to. I just want to give in." I took his hand and pressed my lips to it.

"I feel the same sometimes."

"It’s hard."

"Really, I’d rather we waited to get married."

"Married!" I exclaimed and sat up.

"Yes, married."

"Well, no such luck. Not unless you want to get married on my eighteenth birthday."

"Okay." he said casually.

"Let’s get married when you turn eighteen, or now. Why wait?"

"I…don’t know."

"Why not?"

"I don’t know what father would think. He’d have to sign the papers."

"You love me don’t you?"

"Of course."

"So why not? If you really love me, you can do this."

"I’m a little afraid of him I admit." I murmured.

"I’ll be with you." he promised.

"And, what if you die?"

"I don’t get it."

"Maybe our relationship isn’t a good idea, because with you being in war, you could die any day. I don’t know if I could bear it."

"I could die by just simply tripping and breaking my neck."

I flinched as he said that. He hugged me.

"But it’s scary knowing you’re putting yourself in the way of a bullet."

"I’ll be okay." he assured me.

"You don’t know that."

"And how will I feel if…you die?"

"I guess as bad as I would."

"Maybe even worse."

"Maybe." I agreed with clenched teeth. As if he’d feel worse than I would. But I let it go. I wasn’t going to get some stupid argument started. I was trying to be mature, but then again. Maybe we needed to argue. So he would realize he needed someone else, someone older. So I faked it.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, noticing that my voice was tense.

"So you think you would care more if I died than I would if you died?"

"I didn’t mean it that way."

"Then why did you say it? You could have just said yes."

"You’re not seriously arguing about this are you?" he chuckled.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" I asked, raising my voice.

"I mean you’re being…a little immature." he admitted.

I used that. "Immature! Ugh, I knew it! You do think I’m too young!"

"Why are you making a big deal out of this? And that’s not what I meant either."

"Sure it wasn’t! You know what, I’m going to my tent. Goodnight." I stood up and quickly found my shirt and bra. I put them on quickly.

"C’mon Rachael, don’t be a baby."

"Oh! I’m a baby now!" I asked. I was a little too good at this.

"What is wrong with you? You’re never like this."

"So something’s wrong with me?" I pushed.

"No, dammit you know what I mean."

"Yes, I’m not mature enough for you. Well, you’re absolutely right. I was right to try to stop this in the first place. Goodbye." I felt guilty as hell as I stormed out of the tent.

"Rachael, come back." Danny called. I think I was doing a pretty good job. I didn’t want to, but I knew what was best for him. And it wasn’t me. He followed me out of the tent.

"Let’s talk about this." He called.

"No, leave me alone!" I said, then started to quicken my pace. He caught up to me easily. He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him.

"Look, I think you’re overreacting. Are you doing this on purpose?"

"What, you think I’m trying to cause drama or something? I’m not a jerk. I wouldn’t start an argument on purpose. That’s profanity!"

"Then what is up?"

"Nothing is up damn it."

"Are you going to start cursing now?"

"Well, as long as I’m being immature!"

"Would you stop it!"

"Shit, damn, hell, fu-"

"Stop it!"

"Make me!" I held my breath. If I could only get him to hit me! That would be the deal breaker. I saw he was already clenching his fist.

"My patience is running thin."

"Maybe mine is too!"

"What do you mean?"
"You’re so annoying sometimes!"

"Like how?" I realized some people were staring at us.

"Well, first, you won’t sleep with me, you’re always bossing me around, and you think you’re always right. You’re worse than my father sometimes. Just because you’re older than me…" He took a hand full of my hair. Good, I was getting him really angry now; it was only a matter of time. "Let go of me!"

"Not until you tell me what is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong Danny."

"Something is wrong."

"Fine, you want to know what’s wrong? It’s you. You’re what’s wrong."

"What’s wrong with me?" I yanked his hand from my hair.

"Figure it out yourself." I turned and walked away, knowing he wouldn’t come after me.

Submitted: November 13, 2010

© Copyright 2021 Cherie Arlavine . All rights reserved.


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