(French)

The bullet flew straight through his chest and stained his shirt with blood. He fell and hit the ground unnaturally, but no one batted an eye at the dead body that littered the ground since there were so many in the depths of warfare.

    People slashed left and right, with swords drawn that smelt of blood. Shouts and screams coward over the battlefield, and a cannon when off and hit a handful of bluecoats charging towards the enemy.

    However, among the mist of it all, stood Alex. His black mattered hair stuck to his forehead, and his clothes were as red as the redcoats. His mind was at ease to this fact, since the end of his gun rested at his shoulder while the muzzle was trained on the general, who was commanding orders to his men to attack. He flipped the lock and held his thumb at the trigger. He whispered incoherent words to himself and relaxed as he blocked out the sounds of dying men.

   Unknown to Alex, a redcoat had his gun aimed at him. Before he could move, it was already too late, and the shot was soaring through the mist of men. Alex heard it coming near and whipped around just in time to see that a man had taken the bullet for him.

    "Lafayette?"

    Laf held a hand at his stomach, where the wound was prominent most and smiled. He collapsed onto the ground, looking up into the sky as men ran around him to get into the center of the fight.

    Alex, despite the world around him, rushed to his side and cradled him as if he were a child. He broke out into sobs over the thought that he was the cause of all this. Alex opened his mouth to speak but all that slipt the confines of his lips were more broken cries. "I...I'm..."

    "Retreat!" the cry swarmed over the men, and the army of bluecoats fled. Alex didn't budge from his spot and instead began to rock the lifeless body of Laf in his arms. "A-Alex, you must go..." He mumbled.

    Alex shook his head and instead tightened his grip on him, "You're speaking maddening thoughts." he said, "I'm not-" He never finished his sentence since a fellow soldier grabbed him and dragged him off with the others. Despite Alex's shouts of protest, his words were still regarded, but he luckily caught the faint whispers from his friend before he saw the last remnants of the wilting body.

    "Souviens-toi Alex, le vrai soldat se bat non pas parce qu'il déteste ce qui est devant lui, mais parce qu'il aime ce qui est derrière lui."

    "Remember Alex, the real soldier is not fighting because he hates what's in front of him, but because he loves what's behind him."

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    The hard slap across his cheek was enough to send Alex into a fit of guilt and shame. He kept his head cocked to the side from the blow, before readjusting himself. He swallowed thickly, and focused his gaze straight on, trying to not focus on the roaming feet traveling around him.

    "I ask one thing of you Alex. One thing..." Washington muttered as he paced around the tent. Unlike the battlefield, there was no smell of blood, but rather ink that could penetrate any man's nose and send them to tears. Alex, as told by the rest of his men, had a body made of steel, and would never cry at the most heart-aching events. But this slap and the torture of seeing his friend being wounded at his own account made his eyes water. He blinked rapidly to remove the tears, but they seemed stuck, and his image of bravery was long forgotten.

    "Are you a child?" Washington spat, as he caught a glimpse of emotion embedded into his eyes.

    "I'm sorry, General. I am just worrisome for my fellow comrade." Alex said.

    "This is why I fear for you, Alexander." Washington remarked as he took a seat behind his desk, "Your emotions get ahead of your actions. This is why I gave you direct orders to stay mounted on your horse. And what do you do, I may ask?"

     Alex looked away and bit his lip, "I betrayed you, General."

    "That is correct. And this is the second time you've done this. I gave you a specific job." "I understand, but General, I can not stand idly by-" George put up a hand and silenced Alex.

    "I request for you to leave and check up on Lafayette. You know his condition if faltering, and him catching a glimpse of you before anything else happens should be the best."

    Alex opened his mouth to object, but the thought of seeing his friend close to death on the battlefield was enough to make his lips clamp shut. "Thank you." He muttered, before turning on his heel and making storming out of the tent. Contrary to Washington's words, Alex knew that this would not be the last time he disobeyed orders.

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Pardon for the short chapter

School=shit