word count, 2269
CHAPTER ONE: THE REASON

NINETEEN-FIFTY-SEVEN

WHILE YEARS ESCAPED through his quivering hands like water in open hands- each year would deliver the same date. It was one that would menace and plague his mind, one that haunted his mind even as he drowned in blissful dreams. A date that he would never forget. The day his father's plane crashed into the earth.

The anniversary of his father's untimely death.

Each year would hold the same date- and each year he would relapse the very same routine, one where he would go down to the most desolate pub in a desperate attempt to drink away his pain for the night. This was the meaningless lie that he told himself when he was approaching the same location, but like the year before and the year before that, he would suffer the night sober and alone much like his father would have.

James knew that his father would never have wanted his only son to drink his sanity away, so with a heavy heart he would while away the hours in his own personal silence. While within his solitude the light would flee the room until he was the only one remaining in the dark, compact space- the walls seemingly caving in, suffocating him until his lungs forgot the simple task of breathing.

Much like his father would have.

With an untouched drink placed carefully on the counter, he remained in his tortured comfort while the rest of the world remained in their imprisoned happiness, as happy as war torn families could have been.

The thought of going to war was prominent in the scattered mess of his mind, the idea of serving for his country always seemed to link together to form a perfect picture of what he wanted. Of what his father would have wanted for him, perhaps.

But there always seemed to be a reason as to savour another year, longing another year of solitude, of peace. He was often kept awake in this wonder, in a state of puzzlement- with his mother a shell of what she was all those years ago, he didn't particularly see any logical reason to stay.

But in a way, he always found his aspirations to be selfish and cruel. It was even harder when he knew that if he went off to war, there was a high chance that he would never return- leaving his hollow mother truly alone in the world.

She was a vacant, lost soul after her husband tumbled to the ground and never arose. But for a while it wasn't this way- she was near the same, simply hiding behind locked doors and paper walls to quieten her misery and pain. She managed a smile for a while, nursing her son through sleepless nights- but eventually she failed her smiles, and it was almost as if James had lost both his parents that very night. His mother had turned into a carcase, waiting for the day her lungs would fail her much like her smile had.

For a while, James would speak to her in a gentle tone, but some days he grew tired of her ways, tired of being the only person holding together their decaying relationship- resulting in him screaming at her to speak, to say something, to be his mother again. She would answer in a silence, never once flinching, and he found that that hurt more than any word that could have ever escaped her lips.

The only time she would ever react was when he talked about going off to sign up as an SAS officer- her pallid eyes would meet his, no words leaving her. But guilt would burden his senses and he would process the silent screams she sent his way, as if she longed him to stay with her, that the thought of the only thing left of her beloved husband speaking of becoming another corpse rendered her speechless.

But it was different now, he would approach her and she would look blankly into his eyes as if he was but a stranger. Even when he would talk to her of the recent Vietnam War- she found the dirt-smeared windows more interesting than any of the words he spoke. He quickly found himself preferring the silent screams.

But he wanted to save himself until he was twenty-five, the age his father was when he left to fight the Nazis. He found it fitting, a sick sense of irony to it. But he also wanted to give himself time to find a reason to return, a reason to fight. While the idea of war was one that was heroic, it was pointless if there was nothing to go home to, nothing to fight for- because in that dismal moment there was nothing.

Perhaps that was what he was looking for in the murky beverage- something to go home to.

He just didn't expect the reason to come so soon or so abruptly, standing behind him in a lilac blouse and floral skirt.

"Is this seat taken?"

Those were the first words she ever spoke to him, a polite smile displayed on her blood red lips when he turned around slightly, his dim eyes to meet her bright ones.

Despite the confusion burning in the back of his throat, confusion as to why she would choose to sit next to him, the place overflowing with vacant chairs- an unknown instinct forced a small smile onto his face as he muttered, "Be my guest."

He barely noticed her shoulders relax as she settled herself in the seat adjacent from him, her smile never wavering- eyes burning with curiosity as she observed the man next to her whose intense eyes were fixated on the beverage in front of him.

"What's the occasion?"

He glanced up at her almost irritably, eyebrows furrowed. "Pardon?"

She gestured to his drink as she folded her arms, leaning them against the counter, "You're not a regular and you're not wearing a uniform... So, what's the occasion to why you're drinking?"

He exhaled sharply as his gaze flitted away from hers when he realised that he was, in fact, staring. "Nothing special."

She snorted, shaking her head slightly. "Oh, I see, your woman giving you trouble?"

"I don't have a woman" He batted back quickly.

"That's what they all say." She spoke in a playfully hushed tone, her eyes flitting to the men who had been eyeing her up since she had entered. His eyes diverted to where she was hinting and he raised an eyebrow at her remark.

"You don't seem like the sort of type to do that thing." He commented as she chuckled slightly, her dark hazel eyes returning to him.

"That's because I'm not the type, they just try it on as if every woman is." She stated, rolling her eyes. "They're all 'happily' married."

"I take it marriage is not your sort of thing?" He questioned, getting oddly fascinated by the woman sitting beside him with dark chestnut hair, her eyes sparkling even in the dim light- revealing the golden speckles etched into them.

Her eyes dimmed slightly, answering the question with a shrug. "The thought never crossed my mind, if I'm honest."

The bright spark returned to her iris' as she smiled sweetly at him again. "I take it you have women crawling all over you though."

To say the statement startled and confused him was an understatement, his face screwed up slightly causing her to laugh gently, and James had to force himself from laughing himself- the sound contagious.

"Oh, come on! You can't be serious. You're the dark, brooding man who sits alone in a bar! You can't seriously tell me no one has tried with you at least?"

He shook his head, a small smile on his face at the angelic sound that had cascaded from her crimson lips. "I suppose not. I guess my dark, brooding character tends to scare them off."

She smiled at the remark, noting to herself that his smile might have been the most beautiful thing she had seen within the whole town. "You don't smile much, huh?"

The smile quickly vanished from his features as his gaze returned solemn to the drink placed in front of him. "I guess there's not much to smile about."

She feigned disappointment. "Am I not worthy?"

He suppresses a smile at her comment, his eyes returning to the woman in front of him- and he found himself admiring how beautiful she looked compared to the world around him. "I don't even know your name."

"You never asked," She fired back, relaxing into a silence while the man next to her quietly chuckled, never once lifting up his drink. "It's Florence."

She glanced over at him with a sigh, "My name, Florence Peters."

"You don't like it?" He inquired.

"Let's just say I'm not overly fond of it, what about you?"

"I think it's pretty; it suits you." He admitted, smiling when he saw the blush of red that crept onto her pale cheeks.

"I meant your name- what's your name?" She corrected with a tiny laugh.

A flush of heat embellished his cheeks at the realisation as he muttered. "James Conrad."

"That sounds like a soldier kind-of-name, imagine it- Captain James Conrad." She exclaimed, resting her head on one of her hands as she gave him her full attention.

"That's the plan."

She frowned slightly, tilting her head to one side. "You don't seem like the type."

"Well, I aspire to be."

"If that's what you want to do then why don't you sign up? The government are dying to have people sign themselves up for mass suicide." She stated harshly, but he found a brutal truth in the words, because truth be told, she wasn't entirely wrong.

"I guess I'm looking for a reason," He answered- and when confusion washed over her features, he found himself shrugging, his hands anxiously fiddling with one another.

"Every man has a reason leave for war, those who don't just sign themselves up to defend their country, but with no intention to return. I want to go over with a reason to return, it may be selfish—"

"I don't think it's selfish," She cut in softly, placing a soft hand over his, offering a small squeeze- a contrast to her once harsh tone and attitude. "I think it's human- and more humane than what my father did."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise." He apologised quickly but she merely shook her head.

"How could you have, you know? He was just a man who decided that dying in honour was more heroic than returning to his family. He left us all those years ago with no intention of returning, it broke my mother's heart when all the women my father was with approached her, asking of his whereabouts with children with his eyes."

The silence settled between them, the loud voices of the pub almost calming to the both of them, her anger dimming as the voices of drunken men grew louder. But when she glanced over at James, she noticed him staring- almost studying her, and her anger quickly subdued to nothing.

"You never told me the occasion." She inquired, her eyes flitting to the drink that remained the same as it did when she had first noticed him across the room.

He felt his heart ache again at the sudden thought, the state he was in before her accompanying him- that it wasn't just an ordinary night speaking to a pretty girl, that it was in fact the day he would dread every year. "It's the day my father's plane went down when he was fighting the Nazis. They searched for him for months- but they never found him."

She smiled sadly to him, leaning over to grab his drink as she noticed the pained expression that shredded his expression. Even though her father left to war with no intention of returning, that didn't mean that every father and husband did the same. Her heart ached for him, despite her bitterness towards war and the men that went to them. He didn't appear to be one of those men, and if he was half the man his father supposedly was, then her view would be right.

"To your father then." She said, raising her glass in the air before tilting the bitter content down her throat resulting in her wincing slightly. The reaction made him smile, admiring her deep brown hair and soft brown eyes- he found himself fond of her already.

The rest of the night was filled with the same talk, the two of them finding a comfort and haven in one another's company. She would find herself asking about his father and he would recall as many memories and stories he could remember- the last being the story of the lighter that was being clasped within a loose grip, his hand locked in tighter grip with hers.

The night never ended the way that they had intended it to, but at some point, the two ended up naked and entwined under the rough covers of her bed. It was strange, how the person next to him was a stranger just a number of hours ago- and how infatuated he was with her- and as the sun peered through the tattered curtains, the light finding a home on her skin, he smiled as he realised he had found a reason.

❀AUTHOR'S NOTE❀

sorry that chapter one took so long to get up! I hope it was worth the wait, i'm planning to update at the weekend as well- so pay attention for that!

remember to vote and comment, it is always appreciated, especially because the book is so new and small on this big platform. :)

UP NEXT → CHAPTER TWO