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Seeing his reflection after so long locked in his bandages should have been comforting but Piers only saw the scars and deformities. His right arm missing, his right eye blind and part of his face covered with long scars like the right side of his body.
He was ugly. Disfigured.
Piers had survived to become this. He was no longer able to return to fight. He would have to spend a lot of time working to regain his former ease and mobility. He was not the young man he had been before.
He should not have survived, thought Piers, before feeling two arms clenching him and the sound of a soaking sob. He could see his captain in the mirror of the hospital. Chris holding him against him as the soldier was wounded could at any moment disappear, be taken away again.
Piers couldn’t regret his survival. Not when Chris had him as a miracle that could be taken at any moment.