The San Jacinto will gradually fly to low Mars orbit for a period of test flights before formal deployment. As the mothership's speed and altitude gradually increase, all systems are functioning normally. Lübeck felt he could leave to rest; in fact, it was well past his off-duty time. However, as captain, he had a heavy responsibility and had to monitor every important step.
Back in his cabin, Brittany was already asleep. The dim guide light in the room faintly illuminated the outline of her figure, which she often lay in bed. Lübeck took a quick hot shower to wash away the fatigue of the day, then went back to bed, lying beside Brittany. He looked at her face, listened to her peaceful breathing, and thought about how she had woken up alone that morning and gone to sleep alone that night. He had only managed to spend some time with her at noon, and it felt as if their entire day had been stolen away.
Lübeck placed his hand on her shoulder, gently stroking her skin, her collarbone, her chest, as if trying to make up for the time he had missed with her.
Lübeck wanted to put his arm around her shoulder and help her fall asleep, but he was afraid his elbow would compress her breathing. So he put his arm around her waist, but it felt like his forearm was also compressing her breathing. Finally, he moved his arm down to her hip and thigh, gently pressing his cheek against her shoulder, breathing in her scent, as if this could compensate for the extra time he spent with her in her sleep.
The spaceship's bedroom no longer had a viewing window. This was a warship; defense was paramount. The cabins were only illuminated by lights simulating the alternation of day and night to prevent disrupting the body's biological clock. However, this confined space seemed to further distance people from each other.
When you have someone by your side, the beautiful memories of being with your loved one seem to reappear. It's like the warm, bright autumn sunshine, where the plants in the garden are busy flowering and bearing fruit, trying to prolong their future in their final moments.
Bees and various insects, too, were busy attending the final feast in the afternoon's brilliance, flitting and dancing among the flowers of different colors.
"Erich," came her soft call in the warm autumn sunlight.
"Erich, I'm here." Lübeck followed the voice, parting the overgrown weeds and purple and yellow flowers. There lay Ruth, lying in the grass, her long dress clinging tightly to her legs to ward off insects, emphasizing her slender figure. The buzzing of insect wings darted past in the fragrant air of the fields. Ruth raised her arm to shield her eyes from the sun. Seeing that Lübeck had found her, she whispered to him,
"Ah, I'm tired. I'll rest for a while. Wait for me here, don't wander off," she said, closing her eyes. Beside her lay the basket she always carried at her waist, filled with sweetroot she had dug up, still covered in soil, some dried, some still damp. There were also some blackberries, which she had broken off with the twig—the kind of snacks children had enjoyed back then.
Lübeck lay beside her, picking some ripe blackberries, wiping them on his sleeve, and popping them into his mouth. He savored their subtle sweet and sour taste while gazing at the drifting white clouds in the blue sky. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the warm, fresh meadow under the afternoon sun, mingled with Ruth's fragrance. It seemed that in her presence, little Lübeck could always be carefree.
In the rainy night, Lübeck carried his suitcase, walking towards the San Diego Naval Base. The deserted street was only broken by the patter of raindrops on the ground, and the scattered streetlights dimly illuminated the puddles. Through the rain-drenched vision, Ruth's face from their parting lingered in Lübeck's mind, merging with the rainy night before him, gradually fading away.
"Erich, don't be stubborn, I'll wait for you to come back..." Those unfinished words at parting, carrying her longing, seemed to follow Lübeck's footsteps to the ends of the earth.
The blood and fire of war may forge a man, but the trials of life and death make him understand more clearly what he cherishes in his life. At home, Ruth lay prone on her bed in the quiet of the night, her cheek pressed against the sheets, her loose hair unable to conceal her thinness, her sunken eyes closed in deep sleep.
The hazy light of dawn pierced through the curtains, outlining the contours of her face, reminding Lübeck of the face that had accompanied him through his years. He longed to see his Ruth open her eyes, to feel her gentle, loving gaze once more, to see if, over the years, there was still the sorrow in her eyes that he needed to make amends for. But he didn't want to disturb her, before this dawn of his return.
The longing and yearning of separation, the companionship and gratitude of time, all welled up in her eyes at this moment, turning into tears that streamed down her face and fell to the floor.
"Erich,"
"Erich,"
"Erich, wake up," Lübeck slowly opened her eyes. She leaned over her; she had large, brown-green eyes and short, blond hair. She wasn't Ruth, but Brittany.
She gently wiped away the tears from the corners of Lübeck's eyes and asked with concern,
"What's wrong, Erich?" she asked, fanning her large eyes and observing her closely. Watching Lübeck's reaction, her breasts swayed in front of him as she observed.
For some reason, this scene suddenly gave Lübeck a sense of familiarity, a safe haven, a place to rest from the weariness of that moment, to soothe the vulnerability of that instant.
He wrapped his arms around Brittany's back, gently pulling her closer, burying his face in her chest, still damp with the cold tears from earlier. His breath lingered on the scene, as if he had just had a long dream, as if he had been busy all night.
Brittany, supporting herself with one hand and stroking Lübeck's head with the other, looked down at him and asked,
"What's wrong, my little darling?"
Lübeck buried his head in her lap, turning his head to burrow deeper, without speaking, a smile playing on his lips, perhaps a self-deprecating one.
"Did you have a dream? What kind of dream made you so sad?"
Lübeck gently stroked Brittany's back, turned his head and lightly kissed her lips, still saying nothing.
After a moment of silence, Brittany asked softly again,
"Did you dream about her?"
"Yes, don't worry about it,"
Brittany also..." There was no answer, only a gentle pat on the head. After a while, she said,
"I don't mind, but please don't always be sad because of her, okay?"
"Mmm," Lübeck looked up, gazing into Brittany's large eyes, and softly replied. Then he asked,
"Have you been awake for a while?"
"A while,"
"And what was I like just now? Please forgive my appearance," Lübeck said, pulling her close beside him and holding her in his arms. After all, he didn't want to show his vulnerable side too much; as a man, he wanted to be Brittany's support.
“Maybe it’s because I didn’t do a good job, making you keep thinking about her,”
“No, no, no, it’s not your fault, it’s all my fault for not erasing her memory,” Lübeck hurriedly explained.
“Oh, then shall I help you erase it? Do you need it?” Brittany turned around and put her legs on Lübeck, saying seductively.
Lübeck smiled, one arm around her waist, the other stroking her hip, looking into her eyes without speaking.
“Oh, you don’t like me erasing her from your memory, then how about I add me to your memories of her? So that you can never tell if it’s me or her again,” Brittany said in a slightly annoyed tone, leaning on Lübeck, one hand on his chest and the other pinching his chin, asking arrogantly.
“Okay,”
ns216.73.217.22da2
and then Add to home screen.