[you're the fire]

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"Let me go with you then!" Your voice trembled as you grabbed the rifle off the table, arms dropping with its weight. A small smile drew itself on Felix's lips, but his eyes were sad as he gently took the weapon from your hands and set it back. "I'm sorry, love, I can't take you with me."

"Must you go?" Tears blurred your vision. This was war, death, and your fiancée was walking right into it. It didn't seem to faze him.

"I have to, y/n, I've been called," he murmured, hands finding yours and giving them a reassuring squeeze. It's not that he was unfazed by the war, but he had to put a strong facade for you or else, he would never leave with the carriage. He would never leave you.

You pulled in a shaky breath, of course, he has to leave. He had no choice, you knew. "I-I know."

"I'll be back," he promised, although you knew better than to hold him to that word. Falling into his embrace, your cheek was met with the rough material of his uniform, yet another reminder of the miserable situation you were in.

It had barely been a couple of weeks since your engagement when your country plunged into war. Felix should've been wearing a fine suit in celebration of the life you were going to build together, not the fatigues of battle. You felt as though your happy ever after was snatched away right before your eyes. It was unfair.

For all you knew, that could be the last time you held him close and listened to the soothing beat of his heart.

It was unfair.

Felix seemed to sense it too because he tightened his arms around you and rested his head against yours. "I'll be back, y/n."

"I'm fighting for you, for us, for our little family, so I need you to stay," he murmured. "Please...stay."

His words felt like a stab to your heart, and you found yourself unable to answer if not by tears.

Our little family. You carried another life in yours, and it was growing day by day. Felix hated that he wouldn't be there to take care of you and welcome his child to the world, but that gave him enough of a reason to fight in the frontline. He wanted to protect his family.

A shout from outside caught your attention. It was time for him to leave.

Hesitantly, Felix loosened his embrace to look at you one last time. His eyes searched your face, wandering, as if you were fading away and he was desperate to keep the image of you in his mind. He hated farewells. So much. "I'll see you."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat and whispering at the best of your energy, "I love you."

"I love you more. Always."

It was a promise exchanged between the two of you, murmured away from the eavesdropping evils of the universe. And although you'd normally respond to that, you didn't trust yourself to say more.

Felix pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lips lingering longer than they should've before forcing himself to slip out of your arms. Grabbing his rifle, he hurried out of the house and into the streets. You fell in step behind him, watching from where you stood on the front steps as he hauled himself onto a carriage filled with the men of your town, the young and the old.

Wherever you looked, families were giving their goodbyes. Hugging, kissing, crying — war was tearing them apart.

With a final shout from its driver, the carriage began to move, taking the love of your life away and into the dark hollows of battle.

You wanted to run after them until your legs gave in and you were met with the harsh ground of reality, but you couldn't. You were going to stay, and stay strong. For Felix.

And so you stayed, day and night, over and over again. Weeks poured into months, and you only had the memory of Felix's words to keep you sane. You told yourself to stay strong when loneliness and longing overwhelmed you. You reminded yourself to stay strong when financial ruin befell your town. You pushed yourself to stay strong when you found yourself nearing labor, alone. Your life was moving on, despite you lingering behind and waiting for Felix.

A year had almost passed when the first letter reached you, and you read it with trembling hands and a weary heart. It was no proof of his current state or whereabouts, but the mere recognition of his handwriting lit a flame of hope in your heart.

The light of that flame guided you through your desolate days. Every day was a day closer to the end of this heartless war, a day closer to him. You might've been foolish to have hope in such times, but distress had worn you out beyond sanity.

You were no longer living for yourself alone. A little girl had barged into your world, and you would be lying to deny the remarkable resemblance she had to her father. She, too, needed you to stay.

So you joined the women of your town at work, keeping yourselves alive amid the war. It was a fight of your own, one that never stopped even after the carriages drove through the changed streets.

You were securing your baby's wrap around your torso in preparation for another day in the sewing shop when you heard the victorious cries of men outside.

How long had it been?

You hadn't felt your heart flutter in pure joy in so long, you'd almost forgotten how it felt.

You rushed out of your house, holding your daughter flush against your chest as you pushed your way through the crowd of reuniting families. There were losses, you knew, but that didn't stop you from looking for him among the people.

You found no one.

Dread began to creep into your heart, a hand that threatened to crush it mercilessly, but as if by an unseen force, your gaze fell on him just as he hopped off the last carriage.

Your world froze with your bare breath.

There he was, clearly fatigued by the war, but still him. Your Felix. The man that held the universe in his eyes and your heart in his hands.

He came back, just as he promised, and it was the only happy ever after you could ever wish for.

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