theMirage-Prismatic

A capped head was bobbing past the window and up to the porch. You inhaled sharply, arms covered in soap and water, and snatched the dish towel on the counter before rushing towards the front door. You refused to believe it. He couldn't be. It was too early and he hadn't told you– But sure enough, there he stood – crisp and as handsome as ever in his officer's uniform, a few beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his face from the hot, summer sun – with a grin so wide it threatened to shatter his face. The dish towel landed in a heap by your feet, forgotten and unnoticed as you stared in wide-eyed awe at the man bef