So Long, Marianne.

Marianne’s POV:

I pulled out a glass from the closet and put it down; I had left the water out from when Shelly was over. I poured some in the empty glass and spun around. I figured Will would be hungry even if he wasn’t telling me, so I threw together a sandwich and put it on a plate. I grabbed both and headed up the stairs again. I stopped outside the door, trying not to look as excited as I was. I took a deep breath, smiling to myself and opening the door.

“Here,” I handed Will the plate and glass. He looked thankful.

As he was eating, I walked around the room picking up clothes and sheets that I’d so carelessly thrown around the last couple of days. I wondered if Will and I’s relationship would be the same. He did say he loved me before he left. Maybe he said that because he thought he wouldn’t be coming back? I hoped that’s not why he did it. Was he even in love with me? Was I? The questions bouncing around my head were getting to serious for me. I folded up the sheets and put them on the chair next to Will’s bed.

The questions were nagging at my brain. We were both older now, and war seemed to change men for the worse. Did I even know him anymore? He seemed to be the same. Many other girls would talk about how their men were so different after the war. I bit my lip and pulled open the curtains, letting the sunshine in. I felt Will’s eyes on me. I looked at him over my shoulder.

“Are you going to spend the whole day staring at me?” I teased, turning around.

“Yeah,” He replied slyly, chewing on his food. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. Too long. All I want to do is look at you!”

“Surely I haven’t changed that much.” I put my hands on my hips.

“I beg to differ,” He replied with a wink.

“4 years in the military has taken all the shyness out of you, William Jones!” I leaned against the window.

“Somewhat,” He went back to his food. “Just one of the things war does.” He said in a voice I couldn’t recognize. I didn’t know if he wanted to drop the subject or not. I couldn’t read him anymore. I walked over and sat down at the edge of the bed.

“Was it everything you imagined?” I pondered out loud, cocking my head. Will pulled a cigarette out of God knows where and lit up. He was a sexy smoker.

“Yes and no,” he blew smoke at the ceiling. “I met a lot of great people; saw a lot of amazing places I’ve always wanted to see someday. I did a lot of things I wished you were there for.” He smiled down at his hand at that. “There are a lot of things I wish I could forget too. Did that answer your question?”

His last sentence was said cold like his eyes. I nodded. “Yeah,”

*

Will’s POV

Exhaustion had gotten the better of me, and I fell asleep again after Marianne left. I regretted being so cold to her, but it was something that couldn’t be helped. I woke up again around 11ish; the chair next to the bed was filled with a black figure. I jumped up automatically, assuming it was a ~enemy.~

“Will?” Marianne whispered, leaning forward slightly.

“Shit,” I dropped my head back into the pillow.

“You’re not supposed to curse in front of a lady y’know,” she said matter-of-factly. I could almost see her smirk in the dark.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Force of habit, I suppose.” She put up her legs on the bed and crossed her feet.

“What?”

“I slept in here to watch over you.”

“In the chair?!”

“Yup,” She leaned back, her hair cascading down the back of the chair. “It’s ok once you get used to it.”

I shifted over as much as I could without killing myself from the pain. I tapped the spot. “Here,”

She looked at it reluctantly before getting up and sitting down, a wave of vanilla bombarding my nostrils. She sat on top of the covers, insinuating she wouldn’t be staying there all night. The moonlight cast a glow on something shiny around Marianne’s neck; it was a ring, my ring and a necklace.

“Hey,” I grabbed the jewelry. “I gave you that!”

“Yeah,” She put her hand on it and grinned.

A couple moments passed.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I bit my lip and looked out of the corner of my eye.

“What is it?” She seemed worried.

“Why aren’t you married yet? Or engaged? It seems everyone else around here is.” I mentally hoped I didn’t sound rude or anything; it’d been a long time since I’d known what is and isn’t “appropriate” to ask a lady. But it was Marianne and she wouldn’t mind.

“Because,” she fingered the ring. “Because I feel like I’ve put my heart in a box for someone and I’ve lost it.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“Can I ask you a personal question now?”

“Yeah, anything! Ask it.” I attempted to sit closer.

“Um well, while you were still out you…talked.” She said apprehensively, like she was afraid of what I was going to say.

“I did?”

“Yeah, about a girl named Clara,”

Even in the dark, I could tell she was turning red. I almost wanted to laugh. Marianne was worried about Clara? Couldn’t she see that I wanted her? It was obvious to me, but most things obvious to me weren’t obvious to Marianne. I grabbed her hand, rubbing my thumb against it.

“When we were in France, we had all this time off and I wound up getting sick and ended up on the ground of a filthy street not knowing where the hell I was. Clara’s dad, Mr. Harrison, found me and let me stay with them. Clara brought me water, and I guess I associate needing water with her!” I explained.

“Oh,” She said, embarrassed. I elbowed her.

“Who’d you think she was?” I teased.

“Nobody,”

We sat in a comfortable silence.

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“What was Clara Harrison like?”

I felt tense all over.