He suddenly wakes in the dead of night, violent ringing in his ears and chest heaving in air like it had been ages since he could breathe. It all had felt so real, the pain, the anguish and the hundreds of years with apologies at the tip of his tongue but always went unsaid because the person who deserved it wasn't there anymore. It felt tangible in his palms, which were shaking and he could not stop them from doing so.
On his side, a figure stirs, offering him murmured reassurances and a chest to bury his face into when the woman turns.
"My dear, why do you weep?" Jeanne whispers to him as her nightclothes become wet with his tears and her waist is grasped tightly with his hands that were shivering so intensely. He couldn't muster up even a word to explain, to say sorry, to tell her he didn't mean to let her die, because he should've been able to do something, anything, but his thoughts drown out as she runs her fingers through his hair in the most familiar of ways and he feels the scratchy fabric under his body, the fragrance of wheat, barley, spices that drafts through the open, wooden window and it all tells him that this is real and that time spent alone was nothing but a dream.
As he is held in her arms, he cries harder than before because it all had felt so long. So long that he hadn't felt the heat of her body pressed against his own, laid in a bed that smelt only of her and held her small hand in his own once again.
France feels his lover press feather light kisses to his temple, feels her caress the side of his cheek and wipe away the wet trails that leaves his eyes. It was only a waiting game he will play as she would inevitably slip away in the flow time, because she will grow old and frail while he stay young as the day they met. He will do everything in his power to make it a reality that she will be able to grow and grow and experience everything the world has to offer, because it has so much to give her. He never wants it to end in the way his dream left it to be.
He wants her to smile, to laugh at the silly happenings and cry at the sad ones. All he ever wants is for the both of them to enjoy their time together as short, difficult and painful it would be with the war going on around them and make memories that will last the rest of his days after her.
She touches his face to pull his chin upwards and kiss away his ailments. It's all so bittersweet and overwhelming but he knows that even when she is gone, when he and this world progresses without her, he will never again love like this.