Reverse: 1999 x Reader Stuff // ONE0P1NK

Click // Back in the 40s with you

Note// fem! Reader. She is 19 years old, like Click. angst to fluff long oneshot,,, thank you for requesting 🥺
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It was unexpected - really.
It was not even the right time, too.

You and Click were lovers before the world conflict became very notable... You were both happy together until you both acknowledged that it's your turn to serve for the country as well... help write the history and the legacy alongside the others. So you both started to barely see one another as you do your respective jobs.

You were one of the million women who worked as factory workers in defense production during the 1940s, the years dominated by the war...

He was a photographer from the army who had to stay on the battlefield. You know very well how bad the war is as you have a friend who lost her husband by the war. So everyday you were always afraid, knowing how Click has to linger in places that obviously have slim chances of surviving...

Even sadder when this time, the photographer doesn't always live after, through these circumstances.

All you could do was pray and write letters to him as you contribute to the workforce...

The letters were sometimes not so long, it gets shorter as the days go by, and the war going through its climax and more problems happening on the way as well. Yet, knowing that each letter is safely delivered is enough for you to reassure you that Click is still alive.... Until one day.

By the time you came back to work- the manager suddenly motioned you to come talk with her, having a letter in her hand as they have... this look, the look of bad news.

You just... You just couldn't believe it.

As you both find themselves in the office from anyone's sight, you find yourself slowly shattering the seconds of reading the letter report given to you.

He died... Click died in action.

... You crumbled in your hands as your boss gave you small pats on your back.
.
.
.
.

'Back in the 40s...'
An old letter, the latest you wrote to click, said,
'It was one of the happiest times of my life... Until I lost you to them."
That's what the letter started. There was more to say in that letter. Every single word carrying a huge meaning to Click.
Vertin handed it to him so he could read it. She happened to find it somewhere, noticing the letter addressed to his name abadoned in the middle of nowhere during the patrols.
"Y/N" was written as the sender's name.
'I'm not sure when I will see you again, but I'm just hoping that in our next life, we won't be as miserable as we were... And live together as much as we desire, my love.'
These words bring a familiar, tender feeling he hasn't recalled for a while.
'I miss you, Click.... I always do.'
'I just hope you're out there and find this. Read this with your heart. Prove them that you're not dead.... Just as you promised me to come back home.'
He holds these words close to his soul... Even while he's not alive.
'I love you... and I'll find out if I can.
Still yours, Y/N.'
"My Rosie..."
That's the first thing he muttered once he finished reading. His eyes dull but longing in spirit.
.
.
.
.
.
It's evening...
time to clean up.
You mentally note as you notice the items needed to be put away.

The war is over now. You were just about to pack your tools and head home by yourself.
Unfortunately, no one is going to welcome you at home. Because you already know he's gone... He did well. He was the most bravest man you have ever met and love.
Now you have to move on... How will you do that exactly?
That.. You'll have to ask that yourself later. First, you're going to need to walk back to the house safely before more accidents may happen -
Strangely, the streets seem less crowded than usual... where are the people? Why aren't the cars moving? The sky seems to turn grey than normal - it looks like it's going to rain.
You heels quickly click on the cement floor as you hurry yourself, gripping on your purse and toolkit-
But suddenly, you notice someone from afar... A lady with light hair, wearing a suit.
I. Interesting...? It's rare to see a woman dressing this way these days.
You stopped in your steps once you start to clearly notice that she's now a few steps away from facing you, AND not seeming to intend to let you go around her.
However... she seems to not intend to harm anyone. She even has another girl beside her, ginger with sophistication, eccentric clothes that resemble an italian writer.
"Greetings," the lady says politely, fixing her calculative eyes on you, "Cloudy day, isn't it?"
By the sound of it, this lady seems to be from the UK... she must have been here for a visit.
"It is, indeed." You nod calmly, not sure what else to do other than thinking about just going home and mourning... Your eyes can notably tell they barely have any sleep, your hair tangled and unkempt from the long hours of work, and questionable times to wake up and be called up for duty.
"I'm Vertin," She introduces as you both give each other a handshake, "this is Sonetto, my friend and assistant."
"Hello, Verti, Sonetto..." You lightly lift your eyebrow, wondering who are even these strangers exactly... they seem to need something from you. Noticing closer, they seem to have mature appearances of 16-yeard old girls. About 3 years younger than you.