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͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ [Third Person] ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉
John couldn't believe what he was hearing. The sweet voice, that he missed so much, suddenly appeared behind him, like a dream, meant to give him hope. He slowly turned around.
"Y/n..."
He wasn't able to say anything else. No one was.
Before the war, he used to pray for y/n to come back. He blamed himself for her disappearance, even after Polly told him that she was the one that persuaded y/n into leaving. He thought, she cheated on him or, even worse, hated him.
Tears started to roll down her cheek, making their way down to y/n's neatly picked out dress. The urge not to hug him became unbearable. She craved the feeling of his arms around her, even if it was just a simple, light touch. And so she hugged him, leaving her son at the bar.
Y/n felt complete in his arms. Only then, she realised how much she truly missed him. An indescribable rush ran through her. She loved this feeling, finding it just as addictive as alcohol and cigarettes.
Y/n was able to hear Polly ordering Thomas and Arthur to leave with her, which they did a few moments later. They left the small family alone.
John didn't know what to think or to do. God answered his prayers, sending him his disappeared angel back. Ever since the day she left, y/n was always on his mind. At first, he wanted to forget her. He was often seen at the Garrison, drinking one bottle after another and talking about his vanished love to mostly himself, but also his family and the people he met at pubs.
