Chapter 3: Rising Action
The Army barracks, a collection of identical gray steel bunks, lay sprawl beneath the blinding flood of fluorescent lights that flickered incessantly above. The atmosphere was oppressive, as if the sterile walls themselves were bearing down on each scrawny, exhausted soldier. The same blinding yellow light that exposed each dirty footlocker, soiled mattress, and grimy shelf now burned Addie's eyes as she sat there, alone and quiet, scanning the countless rows of humble dwellings, each one crammed in tight with the next.
She cradled a half-empty bottle in one hand, the amber liquid inside glowing in the eerie light. Her other hand clutched at the neatly folded letter that sat upon her lap, the edges of the creases worn, like a well-loved pair of jeans. The same familiar handwriting she'd spent the better part of a decade growing accustomed to stared back at her, as if mocking her from its neat rows of blue ink.
With a heavy sigh, she tipped the bottle back, letting the whiskey warm its way down her throat.
She felt the fire tickling her insides, and she yawned, her neck cricketing as she stretched her weary muscles.
"Evening, Sergeant," came a voice from behind her, startling her. She whipped around, her hand instinctively reaching for her service weapon. But the figure that stood before her was a far cry from an enemy combatant.
He was tall, towering over Addie by a good foot, and lean, his body blocky and angular like a predator's.
He had a square jaw, a strong brow, and the bluest eyes Addie had ever seen. She let her hand fall to her side, and she couldn't help but stare - he looked like he'd just stepped out of some Hollywood blockbuster about soldiers.
"At ease, soldier," he grinned, his teeth a brilliant white against his tanned skin. Addie blinked and straightened up, her mind reeling.
"What's your name, soldier?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow in mock-exasperation. She gestured to the empty space around her.
"At ease, soldier. Have a seat."
The blue-eyed man leaned against the bunk above hers and smiled. "You're the one drinking alone in the barracks, soldier. Shouldn't it be me asking you to take a seat?"
Addie scoffed and took another swig of whiskey, wincing as it burned her throat.
"I think you'll find I'm not much for company," she said gruffly, her voice thick with emotion.
"Well, that's a shame," the blue-eyed man replied, that brilliant smile flashing again. "Because I think I'd like some."
Addie raised an eyebrow, but her lips quirked in spite of herself. "Is that so?"
"Damn straight," he said, his eyes locked on hers. He leaned in closer, and Addie couldn't help but feel her heart beating faster.
She had been so sure she wasn't interested in company, but there was something about this man that had her curiosity piqued. she asked again, needing to break the awkward silence that had fallen.
"Mason," he said, his voice a low rumble. "My name is Mason."
Hearing his name, something inside Addie clicked. She couldn't explain it - maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to see right through her, or the way his muscles tensed as he leaned in closer.
All Addie could think was that she wanted to know what it would be like to feel his arms around her, to feel his lips on hers. This was not the kind of thing she usually did - she'd always prided herself on her loyalty to Tim, her long-suffering husband - but with this man's confident smile and lazy swagger, she couldn't resist.
"So, what are you waiting for, soldier?" he asked, his voice a low whisper that sent shivers up and down her spine.
Addie felt herself unable to resist, her body responding to his presence in a way she couldn't ignore.
She took another swig of whiskey, feeling the burn all the way down to her stomach. " Come on, then, Mason. But just for tonight." His eyes lit up with a devious grin, and without another word, he leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss that was both consuming and intoxicating.
Their tongues danced together, exploring one another's mouths as their hands roamed freely across each other's bodies.