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

11

"I'll take those vacation days when I want to," (Y/n) hummed, "I'll be okay. I'm not on the brink just yet."

Sharon nodded. Although she would press even further, the woman seemed to be okay. That wasn't the case...but it's hard to make her open up. She'd have to depend on Felicia to get her to talk, considering that they're closer than anyone around here. The boss let her leave the room, leaving her contemplating.

(Y/n) will never know what her boss is thinking. She has a clue that it's about her, but she doesn't know what that woman is planning. All (Y/n) can do right now is wait.

Wait in her office space, typing on her computer and finishing reports. Wearing a fabricated smile instead of her usual frown. Everyone's suspicious of her. She needs to get rid of that.

No one needs to worry about her. Why should they? She's okay. She will be.

Throughout the entire day, (Y/n) was by herself, working to distract herself from everything, from her obsession.

Her thoughts.

Her emotions.

She left work with a smile on her face but entered her car with a frown. (Y/n) stayed in her car for a while. Her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel as she stared at the sky outside. It was still bright, with orange and red forming the prettiest combination.

The parking lot was peaceful and quiet. The atmosphere enabled her thoughts to spring out from the back. They swarmed, filling her mind with overwhelming feelings. The woman's eyes relaxed as she relived the emotions she went through this morning. Her hands trembled but kept their place on the steering wheel. Soon enough her lips followed, and her eyes became misty.

(Y/n) pursed her lips together after she sighed. She needed another distraction. She started her car and drove away from her work. The woman made sure that she drove safely on the road. She didn't care to speed and followed every single rule on her way home. Upon pulling up on her driveway, she hurried inside her home and locked the front door.

She tossed her belongings on the couch and enclosed herself in her bedroom. The lights were dimmed and she didn't bother changing to more comfortable clothes. She sunk into her bed, in her work clothes, as she felt the despair she hid away from her. Normally, she doesn't burst into tears upon getting home.

Today was different though. Maybe the bottle decided to crack open and spill out everything she's been keeping inside.

The woman laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling, as her eyes continued to well tears. The droplets fell down her face. Eventually, it all escalated and she stayed in her bed, crying.

Such a pitiful state she's in.

(Y/n) kept her dormant condition until she ran dry. She took in a deep breath from her lips and let it escape her afterward. She continued this exercise until she could force another smile. The woman managed to gather the energy to sit up. She stripped out of her work clothes and slipped into comfortable pajamas. She made her way to the kitchen where she ate dinner and moped around in her living room. She watched a comforting video she always turned to whenever she was feeling under the weather.

Although it seemed futile, it gathered a few laughs from her.

She walked back up to her room, trudging the floors, and sat on her bed. Her (e/c) eyes stared at the drawer that kept letters from Jones. Her thoughts resurfaced, but her psyche did its best to keep them tucked away to prevent another session.

(Y/n) had Jones in her mind, the perfect image of him at least. The mysterious, faceless soldier wore a green uniform and gleaming glasses. His smile sat on his featureless face. Sure, to the normal eye, this depiction of him would seem odd, but to the woman, it was her everything. It was her sweetheart.