""i'll tell you...what real love is. it is blind devotion, unquestioning self-humiliation, utter submission, trust and belief against yourself and against the world, giving up your whole heart and soul to the smiter— as i did."" -Great Expectations
( + indicates time jumps unless otherwise stated)
| v e r a |
The light coming through my curtains is an unwelcome sign that daylight has come and I want nothing more than to fall back into a deep sleep. I bring myself to open my eyes and my mind fills of Harry, much like it has during all of my conscious moments over the last 8 months. I met him on the first Sunday of February, 1939 and he has clouded my thoughts ever since. I lay in bed, wondering what awaits me on this chilly mid-September day when I hear a faint knock coming from my bedroom door.
"Come in," I sit up and pull the duvet closer to my chest, hiding nothing however I'd like to not show whoever it may be on the other side of that door my silky yellow nighty.
In walks my mother and I would be lying if I said I wasn't slightly disappointed when I didn't see his green eyes looking back at me.
"There's a young man downstairs for you," my heart leaps and I jump out of bed. He's here.
"You'd best get dressed, don't want to keep him waiting, darling." She gives me a wink and exits, prompting me to start dressing myself. I put on a dusty pale rose dress, one of my personal favourites and decided simple creme dolly shoes (flats) would pair with it best. I slip them onto my feet and have to stop myself from nearly running down the staircase.
I find him in the parlour adorned in dark grey high waisted trousers with matching grey suspenders accompanied with a tucked in loose fitting white button up. His back is facing me whilst his eyes are traveling through the pages of Great Expectations. I walk towards him clearing my throat lightly to make my presence known and he swiftly turns around.
"My love," he says, closing the popular novel and looking up at me, the only height difference being I am on the higher level of the parlour.
"Hello, Harry." I walk down the two steps and closer to him, we are less than a foot apart now.
"I've missed you." He says, flashing me one of those award winning smiles.
"You've seen me only yesterday evening, baby. What is there to miss?" I let out a small laugh.
"You look beautiful is what's to miss, Vera. You're absolutely stunning, my love."
I don't reply, instead I take Great Expectations from his hands and before I even have time to flip to the right page, he is already reciting my favourite passage.
"Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since—" I interrupt him.
"—on the river, on the sails of ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets." He joins me now.
"You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with." I pass him to put the novel back on the shelf and as soon as I put the novel in its rightful place, he is standing with me next to the bookcase.
"I got something in the post today," he breaks the silence.
"Oh?" He grabs my hand and leads me to one of the comfy sofas around the room. He chooses the one facing the open window, a pretty view for a late September afternoon.
"Spit it out then Harry," I wait for a response and get nothing. Instead his face goes blank. He isn't one to talk about his feelings, always been talked down by insecure men for opening up so he shuts down.
"Harry, what's the matter? Did something happen?" I'm scared now. What could have happened between last night when he walked me home and this morning that could make him act like this? Distant.
"I love you."
"I love you, nothing is going to change that. Just tell me." I squeeze his hand for reassurance, although I don't know how effective my gesture is.
"It came," he sighs, breaking our physical contact and running his hand through his shoulder length hair.
"What came?"
"My notice." no.
"Are you sure? Positive that's what it was? Maybe it was just a letter saying they got your registration and you've only been added to the potential draft list." my breathing catches in my throat and it's now him squeezing my hand for reassurance. He lets go only to stand up and make his way across the room to his jacket, which is set lazily on the bar. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. He crosses the room and hands me the letter, I take it out of its envelope and unfold it.
I start to read and sure enough:
NOTICE OF CONSCRIPTION
The following must report for duty the 9 October 1939 by 10 in the morning at Maunsell Sea Forts located off shore on the Thames estuary for training:
NAME Harry Edward Styles
AGED 21
DOB 01/02/1918
DATE OF CONSCRIPTION 23/09/1939
Congratulations on your conscription and may God save the King.
Signed,
The War Office of His Majesty the King
Whitehall Building #206
London, England
I've been staring at the document for ages now. Scanning it. Waiting for the sentence that says "Harry Styles will serve Her Majesty the Queen in the comforts of his own safe home" to appear but it doesn't. I finally look away when his hand grabs my chin and gently tilts my head to make me look at him.
"It can't be true," he wipes the tears falling down my cheeks and I know it's too late. It's the 29th of September. 10 days until he is taken away from me to fight the devil himself. 10 days of certainty before the fact that he is alive or dead is only a minor detail to that of the English government.
"There isn't enough time, Harry."
"There will never be enough time with you, my love."
"And if you never come home?" He pulls me into him.
"You'll bring me home." He envelopes me in a hug, my head pressed into the crook of his neck and I take in his scent. Vanilla and cedarwood, subtle yet distinctive and I never want to pull away.
We sit there wrapped together—eventually laying down—for hours when the daylight starts to fade and neither one of us can bring ourselves to move. My mother finally comes in and snaps us out of our little bubble.
"You might want to head on home soon, Harry. It's getting pretty late," he adjusts his position slightly. Only enough to face my mother.
"I'll leave soon, Mrs. Cromwell. My draft notice came and I leave in 10 days. I need all the time I can get."
"Oh, I understand. Take all the time you need, love." She leaves the parlour and it's just us back in our bubble.
"Nine." I can't bring myself to say it above a whisper.
"What?" He sits up completely.
"Nine," I say louder, my voice raw from the tears shed today. "We only have nine days now." He stands and leaves the parlour coming back quickly with some hair styling tools.
"Cut my hair."
"Are you joking? Never."
"I'm serious. We can donate it, I'm sure it's long enough now. I didn't want long hair forever." I get off the sofa and slowly make my way towards him. I run my fingers through his hair and stand on my tip toes, leaning in. He meets me the rest of the way and he kisses me. He kisses me and suddenly all our problems are gone. He's not leaving in nine days, he's not going to war. He's staying here, with me and nothing can get to us. We are invincible; and then he pulls away and my harsh reality comes crashing back down.
"I love your hair though." He tries to hand me the supplies but I ignore it.
"Please? It will distract both of us." I give in, taking the supplies from him and I set it on the bar. I motion for him to sit down and when he does I brush his hair. I brush it all to the base of his neck and use a hair elastic to tie it into a low ponytail. I grab the scissors and just before I make the cut, he grabs my hand.
"Don't muck it up, yeah?" Playful Harry is one of my favourite versions of him. It is his truest form.
"I make no promises, babe." A playful smile adorns both our lips and whilst he is lost in his own thoughts, I chop.
"You really did it," He's in shock, he brings his hands up and feels the uneven hair where the ponytail once was. "It's gone." He turns to me and he gives me the biggest grin. After a few demanded kisses made by him, he finally turns back around and I can finish what he made me start. I decided to keep it longer on the top, the length being an aspect of his old hairstyle that I can't give up completely. I take the clipper to the sides, keeping some length but definitely not the length the top is. Once I complete that task, I start on the top, making sure it is even. I stand in front of him, my hips grazing his inner thighs as he sits on the tall bar stool.
He's nervous, but in an excited way. I'm nearly finished when he stops me.
"I love you. I don't know what I would do without you, my love."
"You would still have a whole head of hair, Harry." I chuckle as he playfully glares at me.
"I'm only kidding. I love you, Harry. With my whole soul, I love you." he smiles full out content and I know he is happy with my response. I quickly finish cutting his hair and when I'm finally finished I take a step back and admire my work. I nod in approval and he gets up and goes to look in the mirror hanging above our fireplace. My palms are sweaty as I wait for his response. He stares at his reflection for longer than I would like and when he finally turns around, the anxiety and suspense building in the pit of my stomach dissipates. He's smiling, a smile so big that I have only ever seen it one other time. He runs towards me and he wraps his hands around my waist and he lifts me up. He spins me and I laugh.
"I love it. I love you." he sets me down, hands still firmly wrapped around my waist so I can catch my balance.
"It looks better than I thought it would. Short hair Harry might be my new favourite." I say as I run my hands through his freshly cut hair.
"Take it back."
"I love you."
"Take it back."
"Kiss me." he grabs my chin and tilts my head upward, connecting our lips after far too long
& I am content.
The next nine days were a blur of all things Harry. One day, he took me to the River Dane for a picnic that ended in skinny dipping. The next, we took Nova, the dachshund Harry bought for my birthday a few months ago, to my favourite park and played with her until we all got tired and Harry read to me. Other days, we stayed in my house or his and just layed together, often reading Great Expectations. But I feel like sharing some of the most memorable...
04 October 1939
I make my way up to the Styles' small three bedroom house and stand on the small front porch, I bring my hand up to knock but right when my knuckles are about to collide with the door, it opens and out walks Harry.
"We've got to go before—" He starts guiding me down the steps of the porch as the front door opens again and out walks his mother, Anne.
"Oh, lovely! I know you want to spend as much time with my son as you can, I do too. So, I was wondering if you'd like to bake with me, the both of you?" I've been taking all of the time she needs with her son away. Everyday for as long as I can remember Harry has been by my side. He's leaving in less than five full days and she hasn't had any time with him.
The look of desperation in Anne's eyes is something I can't ignore, "say no", he mouths to me as I turn around and start walking up the steps towards the door and into his home. I turn around to beckon Harry to do the same as he looks at me exasperatedly. He slowly makes his way into the entryway as I slip off my shoes and his mom leaves the entry to enter the kitchen.
"You could have said no, Vera. We've only got five days left." He says, snaking his arms around my waist. My arms wrap around the back of his neck instinctively.
"Just until you leave. Five until you leave. You're coming home to me, you promised. You're mother only has five days with you too. She raised you Harry, plus you know I can't say no to sweets."
05/06 October 1939
A knock at the door awakes me out of my trance. I set down Great Expectations and I slowly made my way to the front door. The soft but stern knock is heard again throughout the empty house as I pick up my pace. I go to grab the door handle but I withdraw as I hear a voice behind me.
"I tried my best for you," it was barely above a whisper, but it sounded oddly familiar.
I brought myself to open the door, deciding to ignore it, and was faced with a man in an olive brown suit and red cap.
"Ms. Cromwell?" He asked as he brought his red cap off his head and towards his chest.
"Yes, that's me. What is this regarding?" My heart starts to beat so fast I can feel the pounding in my ears.
"You were listed as the next of kin for a soldier by the name of Harry Styles, were you not?" He says, glancing down at a piece of paper.
"Not to my knowledge, but yes, he is my significant other." He looks up at me with sad eyes and attempts to speak but I interrupt him.
"No, please. Please don't say anything unless the next words that come out of your mouth are that he gets to come home early." My vision clouds as tears threaten to spill.
He begins to read from the piece of paper, no doubt a template to use when breaking news such as this.
"We regret to inform you that Harry Styles was killed in action when his unit was ambushed by..." He keeps talking but I don't process anything beyond that. He's gone, my Harry is gone. I fell to my knees as the strangled sobs I tried to contain explode and I am nothing but a sobbing mess on the floor in the doorway of the manor.
When I look up at the man he is no longer the man that told me my love was dead. It's Harry, he's wearing the same, clean uniform as the man. I quickly get up and take a few steps towards him, bringing my arms up to envelope him in an embrace. But, when I go to look up at him, he's gone and I'm hugging no one. I turn around looking for him but am met with nothing but the empty manor.
"Harry!" I shout to the empty house. "Please!" Strangled sobs continue to leave my mouth as I frantically run around the first floor of my parents' manor.
"You'll bring me home!" I heard him say as I headed towards the direction of his voice. "You'll bring me home!" I hear again across the house. I raced towards his voice, opening the door to the kitchen. "Harry, please!" The kitchen is empty and I've lost all hope until I hear a slight hum coming from the foyer.
I slowly make my way towards the beautiful melody and when I enter the grand foyer his back is towards me, on the other side of the room. Except he isn't the Harry that I was chasing across my house. This Harry's uniform is covered in red. When he turns around a gasp leaves my lips.
His face is covered in dirt and black gun residue. On the left side of his face, near his hairline, there's a giant gash with dried blood that had slightly ran down the side of his face. As I move my line of sight down the rest of his body, the air leaves my lungs when I look at his abdomen. His hands are drenched in blood as he holds them close to his stomach.
"You were supposed to bring me home! Why didn't you bring me home?" He shouts and removes his hands from his abdomen. The contents of his anatomy slightly spilled out of the very evident wound on his stomach.
"Why didn't you bring me home?" His voice wavering as his eyelids flicker and he starts to fall to the floor. I run to catch him but fail as his body hits the floorboards before I can reach him. I fall to my knees, attempting to keep his vital organs inside him where they belongs but to no avail, his breathing gets more shallow and his eyelids fail to stay open. He's dying.
"You were... supposed... to bring... me ... home—"
I shoot up in my bed, my breathing jagged and fast as I put my hand on my heart, feeling how fast my heart is beating, I glance over at the alarm clock on my nightstand. 4:03 A.M.
I began to think of the possibilities of Harry leaving for this war and my eyes brimmed with tears. I quietly sob to myself, unable to fully comprehend what my subconscious had created. The words Harry so obviously said lovingly were used against me in the nightmare of all nightmares.
I don't know how long I cried for, but after dreaming of what I did I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes and drift off again. I look ahead, towards the vanity on the wall opposite of my bed and stare at myself in the reflection of the mirror.
I did this, tears streaming down my face, until my mother came in to make sure I was awake. She rushed to my bed and enveloped me in an embrace as I shook, my eyes never leaving my reflection.
Harry was going to die and this war would be what killed him.
+
Harry and I were to be meeting at Queen Anne's Cafe for lunch in a couple of hours. My mother left half an hour ago and insisted I get some rest. I did not, however and continued to stare at my tear stained reflection until right at this moment. I tear my eyes away and slowly bring my feet to the edge of the bed, with a slight push they are on the floor and I am making my way to my closet. I pull out a mid sleeve pale yellow dress and light brown flats to match.
As I slowly dress myself, my head is filled with so many overwhelming thoughts. Is Harry going to die? Should I tell him about my dream? Would Harry stay, right here with me in our little bubble if I asked him to? The answer to the last is simple. Of course he can't. The act Parliament put in place is clear, he has no choice. Maybe we could run away, leave everything we know behind.
Before I know it, I am dressed and headed down the stairs, passing my mother in the kitchen and walking straight out the front door.
I have to warn Harry.
I make my way, walking the few blocks to Harry's mums. It is not a long walk by any means but I feel myself taking longer than usual. Paying extra attention to things that would normally go unnoticed. The sky is a bright blue, although the sun has yet to reach its peak as it is only half nine and the few birds in the trees look like they are basking in the warm glow, as if they know our autumn weather will be approaching in just a couple of weeks.
I think about the last seven months and how I have never felt better in the person I am, the person I have become with Harry. I am reminded of how we shared our first kiss on the bank of the River Dane and the first time I told Harry I loved him. So many firsts but our naive minds, clouded by love and adornment, never thought that the kisses and "I love you's" to follow in the last 7 months would be the only things we had left to hold on to.
I can't help but think we took it all for granted, silly enough to believe we'd have a lifetime.
When I reach the Styles residence, it is nearly ten in the morning and Harry should be leaving in just under an hour to meet me for our lunch date. I knock, graciously waiting for whomever to answer the door and am surprised to see Gemma, Harry's older sister looking back at me.
"Vera! It's so lovely to see you, darling. Come in, come in!" She steps aside to let me inside and I see her husband of nearly 2 years sitting at the kitchen table with Anne, drinking what I assume is some tea. Both of their heads turn towards the front door, their eyes landing on me.
"Vera, I had thought Harry would have been the one to go and meet you for your lunch date today instead of the other way around." She lets out a small laugh and gets up from her seat at the table, walking over towards me and embracing me in a hug.
"Well he doesn't know I am here. He was supposed to be the one picking me up but I had to see him." I pull away, a slight look of worry washes over Annes face and she glances down to my stomach. My eyes widen as I look over to Gemma, the same expression on her face.
"Oh no. No! I am not pregnant." The expression evaporated as I am desperately trying to find a way out of this most awkward greeting.
"Had me worried for a minute there, I can't find out I am going to be a grandmother twice on the same day." She chuckles as my eyes meet Gemma's, her hand is on her abdomen and she's wearing the biggest grin I have ever seen.
"Cat's out of the bag, I guess," Benjamin, Gemma's husband comes to join us, his hand entwining with hers.
"Congratulations! I am beyond elated for you both." I say every word with truth and excitement, I've always loved babies and I've often wondered what mine would look like... green eyes perhaps? Or would they look more like me? I wrap my arms around the couple, in a group hug type situation and they reciprocate the gesture.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to find your brother." I go to walk across their family room, and up the stairs. When I make it to the top I walk down the small hallway until I am met with the familiar door, I take a second and inhale deeply before knocking.
"Harry," My voice is by no means loud but it isn't a whisper either. I knock again, no response.
I slowly open his door to find him still asleep, sprawled out on his mattress. I make my way over to him, sitting down on the edge of his bed and start to shake him awake.
"Harry, my love." His eyes slowly open and the bright swirls of emerald green are looking into my explosion of brown and hazel. He processes that it's me and he quickly sits up.
"What time is it? Did I oversleep?" He rubs his groggy eyes and goes to check the watch on his nightstand.
"No, don't worry. It's only ten, but I wanted to talk to you." My slightly shaking hands are enveloped in his.
"Is everything alright?"
"You leave in three days. How could anything be alright," My eyes well with tears and I'm reminded of my nightmare.
"I had a dream last night—actually the furthest thing from a dream. I had a nightmare." I take a deep breath before I continue.
"I was home alone and there was a knock at the door, a man was there and he was dressed in an olive brown suit and a red cap. He came to inform me you had died, Harry—" My breathing picks up, more shallow now and I feel myself gasping for air.
"—and then the man disappeared and you were there, clean cut just like him, I went to hug you and you evaporated too." My tears are free falling now and his eyes never leave mine.
"When you appeared again you were war torn, covered in gunpowder residue and blood—hiccup— your hands were clutching your abdomen an-and you were screaming at me, saying that I was supposed to bring you home and your hands fell from your stomach and your— I can't bring myself to say it, Harry."
"Breathe, darling. I'm right here." He makes me take a few deep breaths before gesturing for me to continue.
"You had this wound, it was gapping and there was so much blood, Harry. You just kept screaming. Your eyes started to flutter and I tried to catch you before you fell, but you hit the floor of the manor saying those same iterations of those comforting words, yet they were the least bit comforting. You kept saying them until the air left your lungs and the life left your beautiful, beautiful eyes—my entire world shattered, Harry." I tear my eyes away from his, reminded of how they grew less bright until there was nothing left.
His hand is brought up to my jawline, persuading me to look at him.
"You're going to die, Harry. You're going to die and I can't do anything to stop it if you go." My hand goes up to rest on his forearm.
"You can't go. Please." I am desperate now, pleading.
"Vera, you know I have to. If I don't go I'm in violation of the law—" I interrupt him.
"We can run away, go anywhere that won't give me the chance of losing you. I can't lose you, Harry."
"There is nowhere to go, love, but I promise you I will come back to you," his voice is most sincere but I can't help but feel the pit in my stomach still linger.
"You don't know that, Harry, war is such an ugly thing—even if it is necessary. You don't belong in a war." It's true. Harry is the most gentle and kind man I have ever met.
He embraces me, bringing me to lay down beside him as he holds me.
No words are exchanged but I soon look up to see he's crying too.
"I don't want to die."
"You won't, you promised. It was only a dream." I am now the one comforting him in this slight change of events.
"It was only a dream," he repeats.
My breathing picks up and he holds me tighter, "We'll be alright," he says.
We'll be alright.
09 October 1939
I awake facing him, his arms wrapped around my waist and neither of us clothed. The feeling of pure bliss washes over me as I look over towards the alarm clock on my nightstand, it's 10 past 5 in the morning. I shuffle out of his arms and out of the bed, slipping on my favourite pale yellow nighty that Harry so kindly threw to the floor last night. I think back to last night, the way he made me feel and how last night we were one, between our shallow breathing and the soft moans making their ways out of our mouths, we were both painfully aware that this might be all we have. We both never wanted it to end and only fell asleep a couple of hours ago.
I walk past the bed and towards the small balcony overlooking our small town, with Nova at my feet, I sigh. This is how it should be. Him in my bed after a night together and spending the rest of our lives by each other's sides. But he leaves today. Over the last week that we've spent together, I've come to terms with the fact that he has to go. We can't run away, however, 3 days prior I brought that up as a serious suggestion. We've come to terms with it but it doesn't make it any less hard. It's a 3 hour drive to the city, he packed a small bag last night so he doesn't need to be up for another 20 minutes. He said his goodbyes to his family last night, Anne making him promise that he'd ask if I would still come by and bake with her whilst he's gone.
I'm thinking about the day ahead of us, making a to-do list of things we were supposed to do this last week and desperately hoping one of the boxes hadn't been checked. Anything to make him stay, when I feel a hand wrap around my waist.
"Good morning, darling" He's still groggy from just waking up and you can hear the raspiness in his voice. He leans into me, resting his head in the crook of my neck and takes in a deep breath.
"You leave today, we have to leave in 25 minutes," my gaze never leaves the early morning mist weaving its way through the houses in our neighbourhood. My voice is monotone, and as soon as the words leave my mouth he tenses.
"We have the whole car ride, love, and remember what I said?" He brings his head from the crook of his neck and stands up to look at me, giving me those eyes.
"Mhmm" I look away and stare back at the sleeping city and he steps in front of the view. He stands there expectantly and I know he wants to hear me say the words.
"You'll come home."
"Those aren't it."
"You have to say it, Harry. It sounds better when you say it." He laughs slightly whilst wrapping his arms around my waist and bringing his mouth up to my ear.
"You'll bring me home," he sings slightly, placing a kiss just below my jaw.
"Go and get ready to leave, Harry." I push his shoulder lightly and he rolls his eyes and he heads back inside.
I am left alone with my thoughts—these thoughts make my heart heavy and my head hurt. Thoughts of Harry in the war, thoughts of how on earth the most kind-hearted man I have ever met would survive a gory and murderous war when I've never even seen him hurt a fly. My mind tells me he is going to die in this war and I will be alone without any clue how to survive without him but my heart refuses to believe it. If only I thought with my head more often.
| h a r r y |
Nova follows me inside to "aid" me in getting myself dressed. I put on all my undergarments and underclothes before slipping on the olive brown suit and placing the red cap on my head.
"You take care of her, alright? I'm going to be gone for awhile so you're in charge until I get back." I look down at Nova's wagging tail and clueless expression, glancing back up at my reflection for a moment before turning to exit Vera's walk-in.
"Perfect, we've got to leave in a couple of minutes." The woman I have fallen so madly in love with comes into view, changed into the pale blue sheer dress she laid out on her vanity the night before.
"You look absolutely stunning, my love." I walk over towards her, getting a better look. The only makeup she has on is a little blush and a light pink lip colour, everything else is completely natural and I know I will never meet someone so beautiful.
"Ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," I sigh.
"We'll be alright," she stops me to say. The words I had said so comfortingly have stuck and they're exactly what I need to hear. I'm going to come home to her, I have to.
+
When we arrive at the Maunsell Sea Forts, it's only quarter past 9 in the morning and we have just under an hour before the inevitable, before the goodbye that I know will tear us both in two.
We're along the banks of the River Thames now, walking hand and hand down a small length of the river.
"I love you, darling. With everything I have, I love you." I say, stopping us and turning to my side to look down at her.
"Hey! We've still got time left, don't start being sappy or you'll make me cry and if I start crying I fear I won't stop until you return home to me." She's looking up to me with sad eyes and it broke my heart.
These last eight months have been the best that I've ever had and I know she feels the same.
"I'm coming home. I'm coming home as a man who has been given more love than he ever thought he was worthy. Given by the clumsy girl who is always wearing something yellow; and I'm going to spend the rest of my life reciprocating that to you. You're it for me, Vera."
Her eyes are full of tears and I'm praying to any god there is to keep them from pooling over.
"Promise me we'll have that. Promise you'll come home and we'll spend the rest of our lives together. I can't see myself with anyone else and I know I never will." I lean down slightly, in an attempt to connect our lips but before the connection can be made a loud voice interrupts me.
"All new recruits are due for check in now! Head to the front entrance to receive your sleeping quarters and assignments!" I let out a sign as she looked up to me with sad, heavy eyes. We slowly make our way to the front entrance and right before I go to stand in one of the check in lines, she grasps my wrist.
"You come back to me and I promise I'll be here waiting for you. I love you. With my whole soul, I love you." I envelope her in my embrace and take in her scent for the last time in the near future.
"I'll be back for you, my love. You'll bring me home." I say before quickly leaning down to give her one last kiss, pouring everything I have into the small gesture.
I pull away and walk towards my designated line, looking back now and then. Sharing small waves and sad smiles. As I walk up to the desk itself, I steal one more glance. She's crying now and I want nothing more to leave and run away like she suggested we should. To hold her and never let go. But, for now, I have a duty to my country and the world. Yet, the only thing I have my mind on is coming home to her, my Vera.
authors note:
hiya ! im so excited to see where this story goes and im so excited to see what yall think of it !
all my love and kindness,
dummy4harry :)