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His eyes were the eyes of an angel.
An angel with the hope of humanity, an angel with the love of the heavens.
An angel whose eyes bled with the sorrows of all the earth, pouring out into the earth.
Babe was a forgotten angel, an angel the Lord had left behind.
The foxhole was cold and wet, and snow poured from above in waterfalls. The line spread ahead, menacing in its very existence.
The only noises were Babe’s shivers and the quiet shush of snow hitting the ground. Babe’s beautiful shivers.
“Hey Gene.”
Eugene felt his heart bounce on its heels.
“You called me Babe.”
The angel aired a voice of confusion, but there was pleasure in that muddle of accusation.
Shit.
Eugene scolded himself. He’d made himself a promise, a promise he realized he’d broken just now.
That he had been breaking for too long now.
“I did? When?” He couldn’t recall saying it out loud. He’d tried his hardest not to. Babe most of all.
Babe’s head bobbed a little, and a little sunshine smile started to form on his lips. “Just now.”
“Babe,” The word was foreign in his mouth, but not in his head. He wanted to tell the angel next to him how long he’d waited to say that word out loud. To see it frozen in the air in front of him, rising into the heavens. “Guess I did.”
“Babe…” The sunshine angel mocked Gene’s voice, and it sparked a little flame of happiness in him.
“Heffron? Watch the goddamn line.”
Babe laughed, and oh what a laugh it was. It was a long awaited laugh. A laugh Gene had longed to hear for months, so many unbearable months. A laugh that filled his world, lifted him up into the clouds, warmed him to his toes in the godforsaken cold. A laugh that could move mountains if it wanted to.
There was silence between them. The distant pop of gunfire filled the space, puffing out its chest, then was cut off abruptly.
There was silence, but the silence was happiness. It wasn’t the everpresent dread, but joy. Comfort. The warm gossamer of Babe was there, and that was all Eugene really cared about.
All he’d wanted to care about for so long.
Then Eugene felt something else.
Something solid, something real, something… something.
The rough cloth binding Babe’s hand rubbed against Eugene’s palm, Babe’s fingers entwined his blood crusted ones.
The warmth doubled.
Eugene’s heart was, quite literally, doing laps.
It was pounding in his head, blood rushing in his ears. It was beating in his fingertips, leaping in its joy. It was jangling in his chest, hands clasped, begging, “What now?”
Eugene realized in a jarring suddenness how close he was to Babe. If he looked up, he could see Babe’s little sunshine smile. If he glanced down, he could see Babe’s thumb rubbing circles in the area between Eugene’s thumb and index finger.
Eugene’s weight was resting on Babe, helmet resting against his, cheek on Babe’s shoulder. He could feel the rise and fall of Babe’s breathing. Up, down, up, down, up.
A hesitation.
Then a continuation.
A sudden deep breath in, a preparation to say something.
Then nothing.
No words, no sudden statements.
There was just the silence of frozen confessions, issuing from their mouths and hanging in the air in shivers and sighs.
One more breath in, and finally, finally Babe spoke.
“Gene?” There was question in his voice.
“You ok?” Eugene responded with his own, looking up into his eyes, which were downcast. Looking at entwined hands and unspoken happiness.
“Don’t tell anyone.” Babe shifted his weight a little, turning. Turning towards Gene.
It was a confusing statement, that. “Don’t tell anyone wh-“
Then Babe’s hand was on Gene’s cheek, the other sliding up under the back of his helmet, into his hair, sending a blissful shiver through him. Babe’s eyes on Gene’s. “This. Don’t tell anyone about this.”
And Babe’s lips met Eugene’s.
And the world was golden honey, cool rain, a summer day like no other.
The world was everything.
The world was Babe Heffron.