𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | | 1917

36. THE TEACUP

"My dear, I'll be there soon."

-

SHE DIDN'T REMEMBER waking up that morning. Suddenly she just was there. Standing closely behind, with a syringe tightly in her grip. It was trembling, just a little bit, but enough for her to get irritated by it.

It was a new habit. She had been collecting those kinds for a while now. Even when she was no longer in panic or crying, or nearly drowning- her hands still shook and her breath still hitched every time some loud noises reached her ears. There was always something going on. And she just couldn't let it go, could she?

One way of dealing with it was to simply tense her muscles until they grew numb and her focus upon the matter faded. She did it quite a lot, sometimes without even noticing- and that was nice.

Jo's eyes constantly casted curious glances out the window, always being met by an empty street, yet always expecting something else- someone else.

She didn't understand why she hadn't asked William anything about the following day. Just about anything. She didn't know what he had in plan if he even had one.

But then again- she remembered his coat. The single thing she had to remind herself of the soldier. Otherwise, he might as well have been gone. Somewhere in her mind, she hoped that he cared enough for the piece of clothing to come back and get it.

So was it really that desperate to look?
Even a little?

"On peut faire une pause. Tu veux du thé?"

A hand on her shoulder, and she nearly sprung out of her own skin. Jo quickly turned her head, putting down the materials in her grip and facing a polite-looking Elise with a plastered smile.

"Bien sur." Throwing a last glance towards the window before Jo could let herself relax and then following her friend towards another room.

Once Jo met the eyes of her fellow colleagues, it suddenly seemed as though they had been waiting for her. Most sat pushed closely together by the chimney- some with teacups in their slender finger, others with cigarettes. They looked cold, although the temperature at the hospital most likely had been twice the temperature since the month before.

Jo looked back at Elise who was already pouring herself a cup of her own, and Jo felt nearly obliged to do the same.

Once pushing the gently decorated ceramic cup against her lips- the taste of heated bitterness engulfed her from the inside. Sugar was a luxury not many people could afford to obtain themselves with, and any sort of dairy was nearly impossible to reach, even for the wealthy. Therefore the herbal brew closely clutched in her grip seemed otherworldly.

There was a comforting silence tugged in between the girls and only now did Jo realize how incredibly tired they all looked as well. Dull and grey-eyed- their dark eyelids devouring their otherwise youthful appearances. It was even stranger to see them among the soldier whom they were supposed to treat, because although they made most of the men look even more sick and feeble than they already did- it was the nurse's skin who was white as bone. With thin smiles plastered upon their faces as they endlessly pushed further to do their job- they no longer seemed as young as they did before.

Perhaps Jo would have noticed the subtle changes in her own appearance if it weren't for the slowness of it. How was she supposed to know that something was different if she was unaware that it could change in the first place?

The men called them angels- and that was probably what they looked like to them. In white uniforms and all. It was must have looked borderline ethereal against all the greyish mutiny that was no-mans land.