A/N: Kind of an alternate ending to the first army scenario, as requested by anonymous~

The inky red circle marked the day boldly. You exhaled slowly, still uncertain and uncomfortable with the way you had been feeling. He was coming back, finally. After two years of minimal contact, you would finally see your boyfriend again. This was a joyous occasion, and yet you felt a surprising disconnect from the entire situation.

Two years was a long time. To say that a person remained exactly the same after 730 days would be preposterous. You could hardly remember how his voice sounded when it wasn’t over the phone. His smile remained engrained only because of photographs, and you wondered if he had changed. A glance in the mirror reminded that you had. You patted at your cheeks awkwardly. They were a bit thinner than before, and your hair a slightly different color. Would he still like you? Would you still like him?

It felt almost as though you were meeting someone for the first time. What should you wear? You had stopped wearing his favorite dress years ago. Did it even fit? You didn’t want to know. Rifling through your closet, you settled for the simplest outfit possible. Maybe if you wore comfortable clothes, you would feel comfortable on the inside. The shaking in your stomach was a physical doubt.

A knock sounded at the front door. Oh god, you thought. Is it him? You weren’t ready yet, your mind remaining a clouded flurry of worries and qualms.

“Hey,” he said, shifting anxiously in front of the doorway. You smiled, falling into his arms in a tight embrace.

“I missed you!” He grinned, holding you tightly.

“I missed you too.” You pulled away, scanning him slowly with your eyes. He filled the silence, remarking kindly about your new hair. You smiled, trying to think of something to say in return.

“Want to…come in?” He nodded, setting his bag on the floor by the shoes.

“Wow. It looks really different in here.” You nodded.

“I guess. Kind of.” The reservations in your conversation formed pockets of uncomfortable quiet, neither of you capable of handling the uneasiness in your relationship.

“We could go to that restaurant down the street for dinner, if you want?” He shifted again, his desperate attempts to obliterate the noiselessness only drawing more tension.

“Oh…they went out of business last year.” He frowned, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the maple side table.

“Huh. Well, I think I should go say hello to my parents. I’ll be back in a bit?” You nodded, tugging gently at a stray thread on your sweatshirt and hesitating to make eye contact. “I guess I’ll see you later,” he said.

“Yeah.” When the door closed you fell back onto the couch, eyes b with water. How were you supposed to sleep next to someone you barely knew? Neither of you were the same people you were when he first left. Life had changed, and you wondered if it would be possible to ever understand each other again. Your phone rang loudly, forcing you out of the gloomy stupor.

“Hey, I think I’m going to sleep at my parent’s house tonight. They…really want to catch up.” You told him you understood, saying a simple goodbye soon after. You rested your forehead against the cream-colored wall. He was sparing you both what would have been an awkward night.

*

You made minimal contact with each other over the next few days. He was closer to you than he had been for two entire years, yet you felt as though a stone wall had been built in between. It was growing unbearable, not certain whether you could still claim yourself to be in a relationship. You considered giving up, ending it abruptly with no explanations. It was tempting, and certainly less arduous.

“I know things are different,” he said on the phone. “Come with me to dinner tonight. Just one chance?” You didn’t want to give up on him.

“Sure.”

*

He showed up at your door again, this time with flowers. You saw nervousness in his smile, an expression strikingly similar to that of your first date.

“Are these still your favorite?” You nodded, accepting them with a smile. “Look, I think we both feel like we barely know each other. And that things feel…awkward?” You offered reluctant agreement. “Can we start over?” You were confused, tilting your head at his question. He extended a hand to you, introducing himself. You laughed in return.

“What?” He repeated his name, behaving as though this had been the first time you’d met. You played along, willing to try anything to rekindle the relationship, no matter how unconventional.

Surprisingly, the awkward atmosphere began to dwindle with this new perspective. It would take time to know each other again, but you had faith in each other. Time, finally, was something you had.