Nam
1/1
"I've been drafted," he announced, his eyes never leaving the skyline. He heard the short intake of breath behind him. "We leave on the eighteenth." Twelve days, she quickly calculated. She couldn't think of anything to say and he didn't want to disrupt her thoughts. He crawled beside her in the bed and they held each other until the sun rose.
"I love you, Linen Blair Johnson. I always will," his breath fanned her neck. The two lived in Neverland, a nickname that fit its citizens. Neverland was full of young runaways, addicts, and those who had nowhere else to go. And in Neverland, the truth made you vulnerable.
"But what if-" her voice came out strangled and she couldn't finish. There were a million what if's that ran through her mind. He quickly silenced her.
"Don't even think of it," he kissed her tear stricken cheek. "I'll be fine, Lin. Tons of boys have come home already." She nodded, uncertain. The anxiety stuck with her all night and only got worse as the days went on. She received his letters every Tuesday like clockwork, and he always addressed her as My dear LBJ, part of her strange homage to the president. She would mail a letter back to him every Tuesday night, and it always began the same, with a Hey, Jude, like the song. Neither mentioned their upcoming anniversary, in which they were going to tell each other their real names. It was the most intimate thing they could think of.
One Tuesday there was no letter. There wasn't one the following Tuesday, either, or the next. The cold realization crept up on her. She would always be LBJ, and he would always be Jude.
"I love you, Linen Blair Johnson. I always will," his breath fanned her neck. The two lived in Neverland, a nickname that fit its citizens. Neverland was full of young runaways, addicts, and those who had nowhere else to go. And in Neverland, the truth made you vulnerable.
"But what if-" her voice came out strangled and she couldn't finish. There were a million what if's that ran through her mind. He quickly silenced her.
"Don't even think of it," he kissed her tear stricken cheek. "I'll be fine, Lin. Tons of boys have come home already." She nodded, uncertain. The anxiety stuck with her all night and only got worse as the days went on. She received his letters every Tuesday like clockwork, and he always addressed her as My dear LBJ, part of her strange homage to the president. She would mail a letter back to him every Tuesday night, and it always began the same, with a Hey, Jude, like the song. Neither mentioned their upcoming anniversary, in which they were going to tell each other their real names. It was the most intimate thing they could think of.
One Tuesday there was no letter. There wasn't one the following Tuesday, either, or the next. The cold realization crept up on her. She would always be LBJ, and he would always be Jude.
♠ ♠ ♠
but lieutenant dan, you ain't got no legs !idk if the dates match up right it was five am today and i had to expel these characters from my brain.