𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | | 1917

20. A PROMISE

" I still think about you, by the way. "

-

APRIL 22nd
1917
Lyon, France

-

JO GOT UP SUDDENLY and tried moving towards the opening. With a lot of force and while looking a bit silly; she managed to get out of the trunk, holding onto her suitcase.

She fixed her skirt and started walking quickly alongside the road. That walk soon turned into a run. Why she did so, she didn't know, but she did know that she somehow had to do this quickly.

When she reached the camp her head turned towards different directions while her gaze searched for his face.

Williams's face.

Jo was in a hurry. She knew that. And now when she wanted him to stand there more than ever before- he wasn't there.

She noticed officers and asked if any of them knew where he was. They didn't.
She pressed herself through the crowd, not very sure of where she was heading. Only knowing the goal.

"Avair?" a voice spoke out loud. "What are you doing here?"

Jo looked over at Mrs. Mary. She breathed out loud for a couple of seconds before answering.
"Er- Lance corporal... Schofield."

A confused look flashed across the woman's face. "What are you talking about?"

Jo shook her head, exhaling sharply.
"I- I need to see him."

Her words were followed by silence. Enough to make her take off once again. As more time went on; she felt her heartbeat surely slowing down.

She then saw another officer. Jo was quick to grab his attention.
"Sir," she breathed out. "Do you know... where Lance corporal Schofield is?"

He stared at her with a confused look.
"Schofield, you said?"

She nodded.

He turned his gaze to her right, nodding his head towards the direction of a couple of tents.
"He may be in there."

It felt like her airs were filled with air once again and she quickly excused herself. When she reached the tents- her eyes darted around the place, taking notice in every face. But None of them were his.

Until-

Those blue eyes. Those wonderful blue eyes that Josephine had never been so relieved to stare into.

Will blinked, not sure if it was her that he was looking at, but also recognizing that face from a mile away. He was confused to say at least. Yet when she came there, towards him, he could only stare.

Jo stopped in front of him, inhaling through her nose before speaking-

"Please tell me it was a mistake."

It just came- out of nowhere, yet he understood.
"It was," his voice was quiet, insecure.

"I know," she spoke, looking down because she did know. The look upon his face had already told her that.

"Why are you sorry?" he mumbled, nearly bewildered, but she only stared at him, quick to take his hand and then holding it warmly in between hers. For touching his skin was the only way of proving to herself he really was there. And not some self-loaded beg for help her mind had created to heal her sorrowful thoughts.