[When he feels her hand brush his, Edward grabs for it. The gesture is almost panicked, like he's afraid she'll float away again if he doesn't latch on now. He manages to get hold, and clings to her.]
[His hand is rough too, calloused and worn from carrying rifles and rack across France.]
Thank you. It certainly wasn't your fault.
[A standard answer, the one he gives to everyone non-military who asks about his eyes. Her question has him tilting his head, his eyebrows raising in surprise.]
The Great War?
[Surely she doesn't think he's old enough to have fought in the Boer War!]
no subject
[His hand is rough too, calloused and worn from carrying rifles and rack across France.]
Thank you. It certainly wasn't your fault.
[A standard answer, the one he gives to everyone non-military who asks about his eyes. Her question has him tilting his head, his eyebrows raising in surprise.]
The Great War?
[Surely she doesn't think he's old enough to have fought in the Boer War!]