𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | | 1917

31. AGNÈS AND EVA

He said something under his breath, his eyes now fully closed. Jo exhaled deeply and sat down, next to the bed. It was a position she had been in many times before and all she could do was watch. There were dark bruises around his down-turned eyes. He looked so different from the day she first saw his face.

She had been told to go and comfort him by one of the doctors. This could mean a lot of things, but Jo already knew. She seemed to know too much. And she didn't like it.

She placed her hand on his cheek and gently caressed his sunken skin. She offered- not a prayer, for that was of no use to anyone- but a moment of contemplation. He seemed so cold and he was turning pale. His eyes fluttered open and he turned toward at her with his deep eyes. And like that, he simply stared at her, as she hadn't already felt bad that day.

Silence in fell in between them, before a rather loud cough, came from Julian's end.

He furrowed his eyebrows and let out another one.
It sounded uncomfortable and harsh.
She didn't like it.

Once her hand fell off his cheek, he turned to the side. As he turned back to look at her with slightly widened eyes- running down his lip was a droplet of frothy blood. Her face fell nearly immediately as his fingers reached towards his mouth to see for himself.

Her fist tightened.
"Je devrais aller chercher un médecin," she spoke with a hushed tone. I should go get a doctor.

She nearly stood up when Julian's now blood-stained hand grabbed her sleeve.

"No."

Her shoulders rose and she stared at him with a pleading look. "Julian, s'il te plait" Julian, please.

He shook his head, drying off his hand against the bed covers. "Rester." Stay.

She hesitantly and rather slowly, sat herself down once again. Her now slightly shaky hand rose to draw some loose hairs behind her ear, nervously.
'Why are you doing this to me?' she thought. 'Why are you doing this when you know how it makes me feel?'

Jo had barely gotten the time to learn about him. She sometimes wished she would have answered his stupid questions, just to spent more time with him. It seemed to fit them both.

He let out a low chuckle, in an attempt to calm her.
"C'est juste du sang, ouais?" His voice just seemed so weak. It's just some blood, yeah?

She was not very convinced and he knew that.
Jo never seemed to be very convinced about anything. That was the problem and it was so tiring. Perhaps that was why she wished she would be convinced for once. By Julian, by William,
by anyone.

Oh, to be wrong. It seemed to be the most comforting thing when you're like Jo and only expected the bad outcomes of everything.

Only now did she notice that Julian had taken a hold of her hand. He was holding it close to himself, like a child with its old and ragged stuffed animal. Her eyes looking into his searchingly, as if she was looking- hoping for some indication of... something.

Anything.

Any emotion to go off. That would at least give her something to understand. Something to interpret. Yet he stayed still, his eyes fixated shamelessly onto hers. And then; nothing.

She saw yet another small amount of red liquid running down his chin. Her face fell into conflict as she held herself back from reaching forward. Her fingers fidgeting.

"Ce n'est même pas si mal," he murmured after a while. 'It's not even that bad.'

Her eyes shifted, watching his face closely. Her hand grasped onto his even more, as if mentally telling him to not let go. Please don't let go.

Then, his eyebrows suddenly furrowed and his lips pressed together. "Promise me you'll tell the morticians to bury me with them," he pleaded softly.

She stared at him, not even bothering to hide the disturbance in her eyes. He glanced over at the nearby nurses, telling Jo that they were the reason he spoke English- a language only he and Jo could speak in that room.

He didn't want anyone but her to know.
His little secret.

Did he not understand, though?

That he could not be doing this to her.

He coughed once again. "-À côté de mon Agnès et Eva." Next to my Agnès and Eva.

Her hands loosed around him. "What?" her words came in pure quiet bewilderness. The soldier stared at her. His silence was elastic, slowly curling a rope around her neck. How could he speak like that? Like it was nothing? It wasn't nothing- no, it was everything.

"Je serai heureux une fois que je les verrai," he mumbled, ignoring her words, and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. I'll be happy once I see them.

For some reason, he smiled, through his bittersweet words. "Je serai heureux une fois que je verrai mon bébé fille et mon amour."

'I'll be happy once I see my baby and my love.'

And like that, more gruesome than ever before- her heart shattered once again. And when reality crept closer, rather literally and painfully, all she could do was watch him with teary eyes.

For there was no going back now.

-

That was, well...
I actually liked this, even though that might sound kind of a psychopathic thing to say haha.

What you you think?
/connie