𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐀. 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

09

╰ ┈ " 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 "✎▫✧⭒...

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The days continue to be gloomy as winter progressed. The weather matched (Y/n)'s recent array of emotions. As the days were grey and depressing, so were her moods. It seemed that the woman herself was slowly losing her own optimism.

The letters were mostly to blame for this occurrence.

They usually made her happy or broke her emotions. With the ones she had been reading the past month, nothing good was coming out of it. In turn, her emotions would mostly be pity or some form of frustration and sorrow.

The letters coming from the soldier were nothing but a ranting and rambling mess. They were shorter than they had been. They were only one page, and most of the time the topic was mostly about him speaking his mind.

He continued to confide in her and (Y/n) continued to listen to him. This in turn formed a bond where (Y/n)'s emotions were linked with his. His feelings happen to transfer over to her and she kept them in her chest. She had no one to turn to, fearing that she would be seen as an insane fool.

In a way, she already is.

The soldier had promised to keep his optimism, but he always broke it. It's not that (Y/n) could blame him for it. His mental state was deteriorating. His mind refused to move on and he still thought about his failed mission. It was clear that he had a hard time thinking about other things.

His paranoia about his friends made it worse too. He mentioned in one of his last letters that his friends complained about his absentmindedness. He thought it was an insult, when in fact, they were worried about him. The war was taking a toll on everyone's mind, yes, but Jones wasn't coping with it well.

He still asks her if she still saw him as a hero. He's constantly looking for reassurance in his letters. Of course, (Y/n) would have said yes if she had the chance to send him a letter. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible at all.

He asked for assurance in the letter this morning. (Y/n) knew his writing too well at this point. With tear stains on the paper, it was clear that he had suffered another mental breakdown. He had put himself down in this letter but still asked if he was still worthy of being called a hero.

Thinking about the letter upset (Y/n) to the point where she found it hard to think about work. There she sat at her desk, staring at the computer before her. Her mind was drawing blanks and all she could think about was Jones.

She wanted to hold the soldier and say how much she cares about him. His girlfriend could never be as supportive of her. If anything, she should have been the one for him. She was frustrated with herself, the world, and the soldier. If the universe had been kind, she would have been there for him. She could have told him how much she loved him.

(Y/n) hadn't realized how long she had been staring at her computer screen until her friend, Felicia, managed to sneak up on her.

"Hey!" Felicia called out to her. The Italian woman's hands were placed on (Y/n)'s shoulders, snapping her out of her daze.

"You know, you've been staring at that blank document for like thirty minutes. I'm surprised you haven't started blinking! You've got to hold the world record for that," Felicia joked around.

"Felicia," (Y/n) spoke as she shook her head. She gently hung her head low and pinched the bridge of her nose, "How long have you been standing behind me?"

"Around 10 minutes or so. I wanted to see how long it would take you to snap out of it." The brunette snickered as she leaned to face her friend. "It's lunchtime you know. Maybe eating something can help you with work. If food doesn't help, then maybe taking a 30-minute nap would. There are some couches at the breakroom that you can sleep on."