I pause with the rim of the coffee mug against my bottom lip when Bittle says Shitty's name, waiting out the roll of anxiety that comes with just how badly I miss him. We don't often talk about all the people we're missing back home, but maybe we should, even with as painful as it is.

"I miss him too," I say after a moment, taking a sip of coffee before setting it on the tray and reaching out to grip Bittle by the back of his neck, thumbing under his ear and dragging him in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Sometimes I wish they were here, you know? But then I realize how selfish that is, and I'm glad they're not."

His hair is so soft when I run my fingers through it, and I pull back just enough to look at him. "I'm glad you're here, though. It's selfish, but I'm really fucking glad."