The room is silent, you can smell the vanilla air freshener aroma wrapping the room. The rain rustled and bumped the facility windows. As he walks over to the window he glimpses outside with a rested face and sees the cadets running and doing their daily warm-up.
He looks at the track meter they ran 7 miles. Then Leroy gaze drifted out the window, his reflection staring back at him like a ghostly aspiration. His soul fleeting his body. Then his body jolts back. His mind wandering to the blank canvas that awaited him.He felt a sense of dread wash over him, knowing that he had to create something meaningful, something that would impress his instructors and peers.
The pressure to perform weighed heavily on his shoulders. "Am I failing?" He muttered. The rain pattered against the glass, a soothing melody that seemed to match the rhythm of his heartbeat. For a moment, he forgot about the expectations and pressures that came with being a cadet. He was alone with his thoughts and soul, and the silence was almost palpable.
Leroy's peaceful moment shattered by a sudden rustling sound. Anita's voice pierced the air , her words laced with panic. 'Holy shit, we're late! The Sargent is going to kill us!' She tossed the blanket aside, her legs flying into the air as she sat up. Her eyes squinted in discomfort as she massaged the back of her neck.
Leroy's response was a studied calmness. He covered his face with his hands, his fingers digging into his eyes. 'No, we're not,' he said, his voice even. 'We have an hour and a half.' His tone was neutral, concealing the turmoil brewing beneath the mask.
The sun's warm rays spilled across Anita's petite frame, illuminating the bite marks on her skin. Leroy's eyes lingered on the scars, his gaze softening as he took in the gentle curves of her face. She was a study in contrasts, her messy bun and oversized shirt giving way to a vulnerable, almost fragile beauty.
As he watched, Anita's eyes locked onto his, her fingers drifting across his chest to trace the outline of his own scar. The touch sent a shiver down Leroy's spine, his heart racing with a mix of emotions. Tenderness, longing, and a deep-seated fear all warred for dominance as he met Anita's gaze.
For a moment, the world seemed to slow down, the only sound the soft hum of the room and the gentle rhythm of their breathing. Leroy felt himself getting lost in Anita's eyes, his thoughts consumed by the intimacy of the moment.
Leroy's eyes blazed with an aggressive intensity,his pupils dilating as he grasped Anita's neck. The air seemed to vibrate with tension as Anita's smirk taunted him her eyes flashing with a challenge. She stepped back, her gaze drifting to the blank canvas that loomed before them like a specter.
As Leroy's fingers wrapped around her shirt, Anita's smirk deepened, her voice husky and provactive. "Let him out, what are you holding back?" She whispered, her words laced with a subtle mockery that made Leroy's skin prickle.
Leroy's face remained impassive,his emotions locked behind a wall of calm. But his eyes betrayed him, flashing with a hint of desperation as he loosened his grip on Anita's shirt." Nothing," he said, his voice flat, but his tone belied by the tension in his shoulders.
Without another word, Leroy switched the subject, his gaze drifting to the blank canvas "The canvas," he said , his voice neutral. Anita's eyes followed his,her expression softening as she too gazed at the empty space.
Leroy stood before the canvas,his eyes burning with an inner fire. He dipped his paint brush into the paint, the vibrant colors seeming to pulse with energy of their own. As he began to paint , the strokes were bold and expressive, like a stormy sea crashing against the shore.
The paint splattered and swirled, shards of color breaking apart and recombining in a chaotic dance. Leroy's brush moved with a frenetic energy, as if the painting was a manifestation of his own inner turmoil.
"If I was to paint this canvas for you Anita," he said, his voice low and husky, "it would be a stormy sea with broken shards and explosive strokes. Chaotic and wild, just like you."
He stepped back, his eyes locked on the canvas. "And at the center, an empty outline. A shape without form or substance. That's where you would be, Anita. A mystery, a void that I couldn't fill no matter how hard I tried."
Anita's stood up, her movements fluid and deliberate, and walked to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, the warm water cascading down like a soothing melody. The scent of lavender wafted throu the air, calming her senses.
As she stepped under the water, she asked, "why did you say that,Leroy?" Her voice was barely audible over the sound of the shower, but the question hung in the air like a challenge.
Leroy's response was a simple " I don't know," his voice flat and unemotional. He stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on Anita's
Silhouette behind the shower curtain. His gaze was intense,but his expression was a mask, revealing nothing.
The water continued to flow, a steady beat that seemed to underscore the tension between them. Anita's question hung in the air, unanswered, as Leroy's eyes never left hers.
Leroy turned away, his eyes fixed on his shoes as he dissociated from the present moment. The worn leather seemed to blur together, a familiar comfort that offered little solace. Flashbacks of the fateful that had changed everything began to surface, memories of his foster mother that he had tried to keep buried. The pain and agunish he had felt that threatened to overwhelm him now.
His mask, carefully crafted to conceal his emotions, began to slip. Leroy's hand felt clammy, his fingers trembling as he struggled to maintain his composure. The air seemed to thicken, making it hard to breathe, as the memories washed over him like a tidal wave.
Just as the memories threatened to consume him, he heard the shower nozzle turn off. The sudden silence was a jolt to his system, and Leroy's hands instinctively shot up to his face, grasping for the mask that was slipping. He couldn't let anything leek out, not now, not ever.
"Hurry Leroy, we have thirty minutes," Anita called out, her voice a stark reminder of the challenge ahead. "Today's goal is to outmaneuver,iq, battle iq and combat prowess." Her words were a splash of cold water, forcing him to push aside the memories and focus on the task at hand.
Leroy took a deep breath, the oxygen flooding his lungs as he struggled to regain his composure. He could do this. He had to do this. For himself and the memories that haunted him.
Anita emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped tantalizingly around her body, toothbrush still in hand. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she said, "it's almost like we're dating." She took a step closer to Leroy, her voice husk. "Want a sneak peek at what's under?" With a flick of her wrist, she tugged at the towel, exposing a hint of her cleavage.
Leroy's eyes widened, but he quickly regained composure. "Stop. We're not dating. I only marry. "His voice was firm, but a hint of curiosity crept into his tone.
Anita raised her eyebrow, intrigued by Leroy's response. "Really? You want to have my ….. Babies? She took another step closer, her voice dripping with seduction.
Leroy's face turned red with frustration. " No, I don't want that." He turned away, trying to hide his discomfort.
Anita pouted, but a hint of amusement danced on her lips. "Oh, you're no fun… well, at least not yet." She winked, and Leroy's discomfort grew.
With a huff, Leroy retreated to his room, quickly donning his BDU uniform adorned with the wolf logo. Anita followed suit, slipping into her own BDU gear. As they dressed, the tension between them was palpable.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the landscape, Leroy called out, "Hurry the fuck up! We need to move before he smokes us! His voice was laced with urgency.
Anita hastily finished dressing, her movements swift and efficient. As
Anita slipped on her shoes and began stretching her legs, arching her back in languid motion. Leroy, already at the door, hurry we're going to be late again. Make sure you have everything."
Anita's eyes sparkled with mischief as she replied, "Hey wait - you didn't tell me about your canvas."
Leroy's expression remained neutral, but a hint of face came out his eyes. "I'll tell you about it later," he said, his voice low and even.
Anita's gaze lingered on him, her curiosity piqued. "What about your canvas?" She asked her voice barely above a whisper.
The door creaked open, and Leroy stepped out into the fading light, leaving Anita's question hanging in the air.