He was, admittedly, glad to be alive and not the opposite, because he'd seen far too much death. He was ready to leave it all behind, even if things were strange here, so quiet and peaceful, the peace almost jarring because he could only remember the lack of it. He hadn't slept well the past two nights, every little creak or sigh of the house waking him, dreams fitful and dark when he had them. They were full of images he couldn't quite bring into focus, sounds he couldn't quite hear, and it had been that way since he'd gotten hit. He'd woken almost every morning feeling anything but rested, at least mentally, but still, he'd rather this than death. Death sounded soothing, and he knew there were men who'd wished for it, but all he could think about was life - bright and real and loud. He'd held onto it with everything he had, and lost most of that in the process. Still, he was glad he hadn't come back without a leg, or a hand, or something like that - he was whole and maybe not completely well, but there was still hope.
Of course, when Summer mentioned marriage proposals he laughed quietly, too, smiling. "Oh, I'll bet you got ten a day. I might have been guilty of it, myself, if I'd been in your care." He didn't mean it lightly, that marrying her wasn't a big deal, but rather that she was so kind, so beautiful, how could any man not see her as a ray of hope he wanted to illuminate the rest of his life? "I hope it wasn't too bothersome to you," he added, watching her work - and perking up at the idea of tea, following her gaze to the windowsill and seeing the bottle. "Actually... that sounds really nice. Would you like some?" He moved to the cabinets, starting to search for glasses, pulling down two before he'd really heard her answer (because he hoped she'd say yes). And he finally decided to at least stop offering to do everything else, she sounded like she really did enjoy having something to do, so he resigned himself to simply getting the ice and the tea and moving to stack the letters neatly on the table where they couldn't get spilled on or ruined by their meal. "It's true, I've had to get about ten things down from cabinets since the other day, and I've carried about fifty boxes of junk out of my room to make space. I don't mind having things to do either, really... idle hands are supposed to be bad, right? I remember something about that, I think." Some kind of saying? Maybe. "Either way, it is nice to feel useful."
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Of course, when Summer mentioned marriage proposals he laughed quietly, too, smiling. "Oh, I'll bet you got ten a day. I might have been guilty of it, myself, if I'd been in your care." He didn't mean it lightly, that marrying her wasn't a big deal, but rather that she was so kind, so beautiful, how could any man not see her as a ray of hope he wanted to illuminate the rest of his life? "I hope it wasn't too bothersome to you," he added, watching her work - and perking up at the idea of tea, following her gaze to the windowsill and seeing the bottle. "Actually... that sounds really nice. Would you like some?" He moved to the cabinets, starting to search for glasses, pulling down two before he'd really heard her answer (because he hoped she'd say yes). And he finally decided to at least stop offering to do everything else, she sounded like she really did enjoy having something to do, so he resigned himself to simply getting the ice and the tea and moving to stack the letters neatly on the table where they couldn't get spilled on or ruined by their meal. "It's true, I've had to get about ten things down from cabinets since the other day, and I've carried about fifty boxes of junk out of my room to make space. I don't mind having things to do either, really... idle hands are supposed to be bad, right? I remember something about that, I think." Some kind of saying? Maybe. "Either way, it is nice to feel useful."