withstanding the war. ➳ au styles. [on hold; indefinitely] [in editing]

Chapter Three.

Marilyn's POV

I watched with tear filled eyes as the jeep drove away, carrying with it the only person I could ever love. There were so many things I wish I said to him, they were hanging off my lips, waiting to be dropped onto the table in front of him. But instead, I clung to them, not entirely certain on which decision would have been the better.

There was a tightening in my chest, as if my heart was actually aching. I could feel it getting tighter by the minute, like someone took a key from a wind-up doll, stuck it to my chest, and just kept turning it. Even after the vehicle had disappeared from my sight, the tightening continued, and I could not bear the thought of it continuing until Harry returned to me. The only thing that kept us going was the memory of each other. I just hoped that the picture would be enough to sustain him through the war, until the memories of us became actual moments.

After twenty minutes of just staring out to the empty landscape - to match my empty heart - I decided to start cleaning up what remained of breakfast. I assumed keeping myself busy would help keep my mind off Harry, and to most people that should have worked. But for me? No. I was a lost cause, so love struck it could have made people sick.

I picked up the plates and mugs, and brought them over to the sink. I started washing them and put them on the rack for Harry to dry and as things started to pile up, I wondered why. But my mind soon remembered that my dryer was no longer available to me. I sighed and continued washing until there was no room left on the rack. I dried what was there, and returned to washing, just to dry those items as well.

After drying everything, I placed our mugs next to each other. Even if we were physically apart, I would make sure that some things stayed together. Our mugs were simple, but distinguished easy by whose was whose. For some idiotic reason, we both bought white mugs. Simple, plan, white mugs. Well Harry came up with the brilliant idea of labeling them. I grabbed a permanent marker and wrote 'lady' on mine and 'mister', with a heart as the dot on his 'i', on his, in cursive.

I smiled at the memory of us talking about this, and then Harry trying to mess me up by saying things and bumping into me. He pissed me off so much that I locked myself in the bathroom to complete it and then refused to come out until he apologized. This was all in good fun, and I smiled a bit at the thought.

I sighed, not really knowing what to do seeing as though the cleaning and laundry had been done a few days earlier. Usually Harry and I would always find something to do on days like this, but he was gone and I was alone.

I took the quiet and lonely walk up the stairs to our bedroom. I fell backwards on the bed, blowing my bangs up in the process. I fell back with such a force that I bounced a little when I landed on my side of the bed. I stared at the ceiling, thinking. I thought of what Harry and I would be doing if he were here.

"Come on, Mar. We need to something fun, and we cannot happen without you. I cannot go on an adventure with my beautiful girl if she is lying in bed all day."


I heard his voice, edging me on. It sounded like he was right next to me and I had turn my head to my left to see if he actually was. To my dismay, he was not.

"Come on love. Go take a walk in the open landscape. Get lost in your thought. Go do something crazy and wild. I don't know. Just don't mope around the house waiting for me to return. I know it's hard, but try to make the best of this time. You never have to worry about losing me. I'll be right there, in your heart. I promise you that."

He whispered in my ear and it brought a fresh string of tears to my eyes, but I refused to let them crash. I pushed myself off the bed, made myself presentable, gathered my purse, and decided to head out to let my 'crazy and wild' side free.

Harry's POV

Training was a bitch. There were long hours, with extremely early mornings and nights that never seemed to end. And if the length of time spent awake instead of sleeping was not enough to kill you, the activities and drills that we were forced to do made you pass out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

We were all training for front-line combat and had to practice running through bullets, dodging bombs and other explosives, all while keeping an eye on the enemy target and trying to take them out.

If there was ever a time when we had enough energy to stay awake to talk, we did. I learned a lot about the Irish boy. Mostly how he dreaded coming to war. He did not want to leave the safety of his family and home just to fight for some country he technically did not belong too.

But despite him not wanting to be here, he was exceptional at every challenge and we were both curious at first as to how that could be. He thought his handy footwork may have been the result of playing football for the majority of his youth.

While Niall seemed to be acing everything, I was falling behind. I would be lost in thought, wondering what Marilyn was up too. Was she crying? Having a good time? Missing me? I didn't know. But I hoped if nothing else, she was missing me as much as I missed her.

Today we were doing a drill to avoid incoming bombs dropping from the sky. We were all lined up and had to go one at a time. I was nervous beyond belief for some reason. Luckily Niall was right behind me. When the person in front of me was ordered to go, I felt Niall whisper in my ear.

"Pretend Marilyn is waiting for you after this drill. In that dress that you love on her, the one in the picture."

I felt him back away and I closed my eyes, envisioning the day that photo was taken. It was a damp and rainy one. She was seated by the window, looking out, watching the rain drops race to the bottom. She was lost in thought when I took the distant photo. She was propped up against the wall, with her legs bent, bare foot, and wearing my favorite outfit. It was a solid black, scoop-neck shirt, tucked into a patterned skirt with red buttons down the middle. She completed it with a scarlet red scarf.

Along with her wearing my favorite dress, it was probably our favorite picture of her. I did not know why we both liked it so much, but it could have been due to the fact that it was just her in a natural state. I inhaled deeply, letting her consume every crevice and fiber that was my being. Thoughts of her flooded my mind like a tsunami, her scent filled my nose, my eyes only seeing her, and my fingertips danced lightly across her skin.

With that, I heard them give the order for me to go. I opened my eyes and completed the drill perfectly. I was so thrilled because I finally completed something without being reprimanded. I was also a bit sad because even though I knew she wouldn't be here, I had a bit of hope she would. I sighed at that thought, but glad that Niall helped me find something that would aid in my completion of the drills.

I knew there wouldn't be many more after this, only because of the need for men on the front line, but until then, I knew I would make it.