Only When He's Around (John Laurens x Reader)

(A/N: Like it said before, this story is a bit sad and contains some death and depression coping with it. Also, it is using female pronouns, BUT can be used with any pronouns of readers. Enjoy.
(Y/N) = Your name
(H/C) Your hair color
(E/C) = Your eye color)

        (Y/N) walked outside one afternoon. She felt the warm, still air settle on her skin. It made her smile to herself, giving her a sudden... joyful feeling that tingled in her.
        (Y/N) saw her significant other, John Laurens, sitting in the garden, back against a large gray rock. He had paper in front of him and a quill in hand. She noticed how his hazel eyes would glance away from the paper to something she couldn't see from where she was, and back to the paper every so often.
        She made her way over to him, and he quickly looked up at her and smiled up at her widely, a smile that she found contagious and that she adored so much.
        "Look," he said, gesturing to a small turtle settled in the fresh green grass in front of him. "This little guy just wandered over to me."
        (Y/N) smiled. "Aww..." She murmured as she knelt down to pet its shell. It was thick and hard, clearly for its natural protection, but it was smooth, and the dull colors of it glistened in the soft sunlight. (Y/N) looked over at the paper in front of John, that he was adding a few more strokes to. Sketched on the paper was a shockingly realistic turtle from different angles, but every stroke resembled an exact copy of the small turtle in front of them. He got down even the smallest of creases and crevices of the shell. She was speechless, utterly amazed. "Did... you draw that?"
        "Yeah!" John responded, that lovable smile not fading. "I thought it would be fun to draw this guy out."
        (Y/N) reached out to pet the turtle some more. Something about the slight bumps and feeling of the animal on her palm and fingertips put her at ease
She replied, "Well, it's very good, John." (Y/N) admired the drawings, a bit jealous of how good it was.
        He didn't respond. She looked away from the turtle and to her love, confused as to why he had remained silent. But when (Y/N) observed his face, she saw that John was petting the small creature, which seemed to enjoy the attention. He was completely lost in it. A small smile was crept on his lips as he put his index finger in front of the turtle, which the turtle would tap it's stubby little front leg on the tip of his finger in response. Never once had (Y/N) seen him so calm, so happy and peaceful... She wanted to stay here in this moment with him forever.
        Every day after that, John would go out to the garden, and was always greeted by the turtle. (Y/N) adored seeing him so fascinated and so curious. He would just sit there against the rock, talking to the creature and laughing softly, petting it, and at times, flipping it over on its back to watch it waddle back to its feet once more. He would sit in the garden for hours.
        What (Y/N) had noticed over time, though, was that the turtle only came out when John was around. She thought, at first, that it was merely a coincidence, that the animal just happened to be out when John was. It was never in sight when only (Y/N) was out, but if John came to join her outside, there it was, out again to greet them-- mostly John.

But when the revolution came by, she started to believe that it wasn't just a coincidence.

        John walked outside, followed by (Y/N). Her eyes were misty as she looked at him, dressed in a navy blue and white war uniform, shining brass buttons running along the front. She hated the sight of the jacket, because it represented the war that was taking him away from her.
        John noticed the sadness in his lover's (E/C) eyes, the ones he always got lost in. He quickly embraced her, suddenly feeling the heavy sorrow seemingly press down on him. She quietly cried in his shoulder, causing him to hold her closer and tighter.
        "Shhh..." John whispered calmly, smiling just slightly, despite the situation. He pulled away, his hands on (Y/N)'s shoulders in front of her. Their eyes locked. (Y/N) wiped tears away with her palm.
        "Please, (Y/N), don't cry,"
        "But... I'm going to miss you."
        "I know that, but I'll come back after."
        "B-but what if you don't John?" The thought of the words that left her lips sent a chill down her spine.
        John fell silent for a moment, then his sincere, comforting smile returned. "I will return. You just have to believe that. It'll break my heart knowing my lovely (Y/N) is sad every day I'm gone."
        (Y/N) sniffled, shaking a bit, going quiet.
        "Besides," John went on, trying to lighten the mood, brushing some strands of (Y/N)'s (H/C) hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears. "I'm going to need someone to take care of my little turtle friend." (Y/N) let out a soft laugh, nodding.
        "I love you, (Y/N), more than anything in this world. My love for you is undying. Always remember that." John leaned in and placed a light kiss on her lips, and pulled back, saying, "Now, keep wearing that beautiful smile while I'm away!"

                    -----------------

        During the time that he was gone, (Y/N) received letters from John. She would go out to the garden every day, but never once did she see the turtle.
        "It's got to be true," She'd tell herself, "that it only comes out when he's present."
        When the war ended, (Y/N) was anxious to see John's face again. She waited eagerly for the day he'd come home, it had to be soon. She wanted to his smile that always made her heart race, hear his voice that always made her smile... So she continued to wait for him to return.

       
              But he never did.

        John was killed in a British gunfight in South Carolina, word of the war being over failing to reach him before it was too late. (Y/N) received a letter with the details, and she fell to her knees and sobbed.

        Her heart ached for days while she mourned. No one was able to comfort her. She wanted him to comfort her. She longed for his presence. But that was impossible at this point.
        A few weeks later, (Y/N) was tired of isolating herself, and hesitantly made her way into the garden for the first time since John's death. The grass was still it's bright, healthy green, the sunlight still resembled the same as that one day. All was the same.
        (Y/N) looked at the rock, the one that John would always lean on whenever he was out here. She made her way over and sat by the rock, tears beading up in her eyes, remembering the warmth of when he sat by her side here. She struggled the blink away the tears as memories, both happy and sad, flooded her senses. She sat there, covering her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks.
        Suddenly, (Y/N) felt something brush against her foot. She removed her hands from her eyes and her eyes widened. There before her was the small turtle, settled in the grass. She stared, frozen, and she smiled slightly, as tears, a different kind, fell when she let it sink in:

The turtle only appeared when John was around.