Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

necks in trouble if anyone saw it. But at the same time, that one look was the most precious thing Daniel thought he'd ever been given. He sat down beside George and pulled out his notebook from his pocket. He wanted to draw that, lock it in forever, but instead he began a little sketch of the Lieutenant glued to the periscope. He tried to catch the tension and the excitement in the man's body language. His fingers cramped on the pencil, but he shook them out and persisted, adding one careful line to another.
    George said, "Food's getting cold."
    "So what? It's peas and mash, cooked to death anyway. It might be better cold."
    George bent over to look at the sketch. "Fuck, you're good at that. Artist in civilian life, huh?"
    Daniel wasn't putting his ambitions out there to be seen. Anyway, he'd carefully buried all thoughts of where his life might go, locked away deep until the war was over. "Nope, just an amateur. It's just for fun." One more stroke of the pencil, a little smudge with the edge of his finger and it was done. He stowed the notebook away carefully. Paper was precious on board ship, and his fingers still itched to sketch Jacob. He made a silent vow then and there never to draw the man again. Not until it was safe. He bent over his food, suddenly ravenous even for the olive and tan glop on his tray.
    But he knew, even without looking, the moment when Jacob bussed his tray and left the mess deck.
    ****
    Three hours later
    Jacob clutched his pillow against his chest and stepped carefully between the men stretched out on the deck. Down below, the crew's berths were like an oven, smelling of sweat and smoke. If it was this bad in July, he dreaded to think what full summer was like. They were south of the equator so things should be reversed, right? July was like December or something. This should be the cool season, shouldn't it? He shook his head, unable to keep the thought straight.
    Men dozed everywhere, some on mattresses dragged up from below, others with just a blanket and a pillow. The seas were calm, and a soft breeze eased the heat. There were clear spaces he could have parked his blanket, but he walked slowly, looking around. Eventually, in a small cranny well forward, he came across Daniel.
    Daniel had chosen a secluded corner, where unevenness of the decking was unwelcoming to other men looking to stretch out and sleep. He sat silently, leaning against the plating of a turret, his pillow and blanket stuffed behind him. His knees were drawn up and he gazed up at the sky, where a half-moon played bluff between wisps of clouds. As Jacob watched he raised his cupped hands to his lips and took a draw on a cigarette, the glow hidden by his palm. Jacob made his way over and sat down carefully, his own bedding on his lap.
    "Hey, Trip." Daniel's voice was soft and a little hoarse, as if he'd been coughing.
    "Hey, yourself."
    "Rough day."
    "Oh, yeah."
    Daniel leaned a little closer, until his shoulder brushed Jacob's. "You okay?"
    Jacob shrugged, feeling the brush of his arm against Daniel's. "I'll live. It was..." He trailed off. He didn't have words for what it had been.
    "At least this one is over." Daniel took one more drag, and then flicked the butt over the rail, his eyes still on the sky. "That moon up there, she doesn't care, you know. Things happen down here, people die, ships sink, and she sails on all white and pretty. I think that's good, you know. That we don't matter too much, in the grand scheme of things."
    Jacob wasn't so sure. People should matter, surely? Daniel's fey mood was strange, against the backdrop of steel, and guns, and sleeping men. "Are you... Did someone die?" Where Jacob watched from the sidelines, Daniel always seemed to be in a group. He knew a lot of the men.
    "No one special." Daniel coughed and then slowly lowered his eyes to Jacob's face, his voice barely a whisper. "Well, I'm sure they were special to somebody. I was too busy being glad they weren't you."
    "Me too. You, I mean. When a new casualty came in, I always looked."
    Daniel sighed. "We are sad sacks, aren't we?"
    Jacob wouldn't have said that. Confused, exhausted, with the echo of terrified hours still vibrating in his bones, but oddly closer to elated than sad. He glanced around at the empty deck space Daniel had found, and lowered his voice still more, feeling his way in this conversation. "Did you know you were... that way... before you joined up?"
    "Oh yes. Since I was pretty young." Daniel's voice had