WW2 era Nessian to compliment the WW2 era Feysand I'm working on!
Surprise. Short, sweet, and simple.
The wind was cool as Autumn was approaching quickly. I tugged his letterman jacket tighter around my shoulders as a chill ran through my body. Begging myself not to cry, begging myself to stay strong, I watched him step onto the bus.
The bus that would take him away from me. The bus that would take him away from all of us.
Ignoring my demand, the tears fell.
My lips still tingled from our last kiss. It seemed too short, not passionate enough, not full of everything I had wanted to say. Although, the night before had been utter bliss. His hands had explored me like they never had before. He whispered everything I had ever wanted to hear into my ear, and I believed every word.
I glanced down at the ring on my finger, of his promise for when he returned. I had never been religious, but I prayed. I prayed from the time he fell asleep beside me until he woke up as dawn broke the night sky. I prayed as we walked, hand in hand, to the bus station. I prayed, begging whomever was listening that he would come home safely, in one piece.
That he would come home, and he would marry me, and he would give me children in a house by the lake, just as he promised he would.
Once he found his seat, he looked out the window and found me, already watching him. I smiled, wistfully, and waved. I wasn’t sure if it was goodbye or hello, and I didn’t want to make up my mind on the matter.
“I love you,” I mouthed, pulling his jacket around me as if it was the only thing holding me together. “I love you so much.”
His lips moved, “I love you,” as a single tear ran down his tanned cheek that he quickly wiped away.
He reached in his jacket pocket, the one that rested just over his heart, and pulled out our pictures from the photobooth at the carnival that past summer.
I’ll carry your picture everywhere I go, he had told me after we had made love, only hours before. Everywhere. And when I’m feeling lost, I’ll look at it. When I’m missing home, I’ll look at it. When I’m missing you, I’ll hold it against my chest until I can hear your annoying, beautiful voice in my mind.
What will I be saying to you? I laughed. In your mind?
He took a moment to consider before he kissed my nose, and pulled me against his bare chest. How sexy I am. How good my ass looks in my uniform.
The memory made me smile as he put our picture back, safely, in his pocket.
The memory soon faded, and panic filled my body, as the bus engine revved.
“No!” I screamed, and I didn’t realize it was out loud until his face paled.
He was not ready, either.
It was too soon. He was too young. He had just graduated high school the spring before.
“Cassian,” I whispered, and it came out broken. It was a plea. Don’t leave me.
But, he had to. He didn’t have a choice.
I ran to the bus, and reached for his hand, but I couldn’t reach it.
“I love you,” he said, sadness shining in his soft, hazel eyes.
I turned to find Feyre and Mor, two of my closest friends, holding their hands out.
Before I knew it, I was being lifted off the ground and my face was within inches of his.
“And you thought cheerleading was a dumb sport,” I laughed, but my heart was not in it.
“No, I said it was only a good sport when you were doing it,” he brushed my hair behind my ear as he spoke. “Because you look so damn good in the uniform.”
My lips brushed his, and electricity shot through me, memories of the night before, memories of our love, flashing through my mind. “I love you. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’ll be home soon,” he promised. “I’ll write everyday.”
“You better,” I warned, and gave him one last kiss before the bus began to move.
My feet hit the pavement, but his eyes were still locked with mine. We watched one another until the bus pulled out of the parking lot. We watched one another until we couldn’t anymore, until the bus had disappeared, taking the love of my life with it.