y/h/l - your/hair/length y/h/t - your/hair/type (curly, wavy, straight, natural, wig, etc). y/n/n - your/nick/name (not related to the war or the plot).
BACK AT THE MESS HALL IN THORPE ABBOTTS BASE, LIEUTENANT DYE'S FAREWELL PARTY WAS IN FULL SWING, with sprightly music filling the air, heartily laughter echoing across the halls, and the aroma of food and drinks wafting from the kitchen. The atmosphere was overall electric today. Soldiers danced with gusto, their moves ranging from coordinated to hilariously clumsy; some were engaging in playful banter, while others tried their luck with the nurses, their charm turned up to full volume. Glee bubbled up from every corner as friends swapped stories and jokes, creating memories to last a lifetime.
Amidst the lively festivities, the absence of the girl didn't go unnoticed. "Did she pass out in some barn again?" Buck pondered aloud, his leg jittering nervously. "Relax, she's probably just getting dolled up, all for you." Teased his raven-haired comrade, amiably squeezing the blonde's cheek to lighten the mood. "I overheard her chatting with Harding about the stupid protocol." He added casually, hoping to reassure his friend. "Yeah, well, seeing her in a dress is only going to make it harder to spot her when she's too busy getting freaky in some crowded pub." He sighed to himself, resigning to the possibility.
"You sure about that?" Bucky cocked up a brow, pointing to the entrance of the hall, where the enchanting y/c/h-haired girl stood. Her dress, a vision in midnight blue, hugged her curves in all the right places, the fabric cascading elegantly to the floor in a timeless silhouette. Adorned with delicate lace and shimmering beads, it exuded an air of sophistication befitting the occasion. As she moved, the dress swirled around her in a seductive dance, softly caressing her body with every step. Her y/h/l, y/h/t hair streamed down lustrously, framing her face like a halo of abyss, and her enigmatic y/e/c eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and lust.
