A Lack of Understanding

'In 50 or 60
She'll leave me completely
And one of us will coldly hold the others hand
No metaphor for this that I can understand
...
We'll be waiting in the shadows in the dead of night
...
"Remember me daily."
And all that will remain of us is photographs
No metaphor for this that I can understand'

~ Waiting in the Shadows in the Dead of the Night, Little Comets

New Year's Eve, 1919.

"It's a brave new world, there's not a shadow of doubt in that statement. And I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do with your life, I'll back you up, no matter what."

"Even if that does not include you?"

He faulted for a second, contemplating her words, and the meaning behind them.

"Yes. Your life is your life, you have to live like it's your life. Don't tell me what I want to hear because I want to hear it. Tell me what you mean, and if that's that you don't love me, then tell me to my face, not riddles that I have no hope of ever decoding."

"So this is it? No wild proclamations? No argument? What did they do to you, James? Punch the stubbornness out of you?"

"Something like that. Or maybe the barrel of a gun chased that all away."

"You used to fight."

"Francesca, I learned the hard way that if you fight everything, then everything tends to gets it own back." He turned slightly, so that the thin scar ran down his face was pushed into sharp relief. "Besides, where exactly has fighting got us? Bodies strewn across a continent, bodies piled up at street corners, people with far too many demons to count.”

“If you don’t fight, then who will?

“Someone else. What’s the point of fighting when it’ll get me nowhere?”

“Maybe it will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t really know”

He watched her walk away, and knew that in the moment, there was still hope.

A/N
A huge Thank You to peppermint_curtains for designing the cover, go and read her brilliant stories!