Harold Lowe has managed to claw his way up the career ladder of the British merchant marines, rising from a ship's boy to a master mariner with one of the world's elite passenger lines. Along the way, he's learned to master not only his craft, but...
Poor little Corrine! As Harry noted, she didn't get much out of her first time, because Harry had ZERO chill. But he makes it up to her here, I think :)
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Harold unlocked the room and rushed in, flinging his hat and coat on the stand beside the door before hurrying back to the bedroom. He threw the little package on the side table and quickly undressed, lying back down on the bed. He wanted to be there and waiting for his girl when she was finished with her bath; he didn't want her to miss him, or be lonely or scared, even for a second.
Only one thing mattered to him now, and that was her.
While he waited, he had a minute to reflect on the whirlwind of the past few hours. Seeing Corrine in the restaurant that morning had given him the shock of his life; he thought at first that he was hallucinating, that his desperate longing for her had conjured her out of thin air. And then he had seen her face... and knew just how badly he had damaged her. All throughout the inquiry, he couldn't stop thinking about her haunted expression, her dull, spiritless eyes. During the breaks between witnesses, he had paced the hallways, muttering oaths to the reporters and chain-smoking, trying vainly to master his emotions. But there was no controlling the storm of guilt, misery, and anguish that had erupted inside of him, refusing to be quenched. He knew he shouldn't have bolted the proceedings right after Fleet's testimony, but he was incapable of sitting still any longer - and he had to make sure he was back in his room on the remote chance that she might agree to talk with him.
It had been selfish and presumptuous of him to ask her to meet, he knew. Whatever kind of bastard everyone thought he was, he certainly wasn't the type to cause her any additional suffering by his hand, and so he initially hesitated, knowing he had no right to plead his case with her. But whether by contrivance or happy accident, fate had given him a second chance to make it right - and in the end, he couldn't let that chance slip away.
And wonder of all wonders, she had forgiven him; she had taken him back, and given her heart to him... and it was more than he would ever deserve. But he hadn't expected just how complete their reunion would be - and how whole he would feel - until they made love for the first time. Their union was more than physical; it was spiritual, their connection now eternally unbreakable.
He never knew that a simple physical act, one he had done countless times in the past, could change a man irrevocably, remaking him entirely through the sweet alchemy of love.
He glanced over at the small spot of blood on the sheet and frowned. No matter her protestations, he knew it must have hurt when he entered her for the first time. It was the single dark cloud in his otherwise clear blue sky of a heart right now. He glanced over at the side table. At least he could spare her one consequence of his lust, though. He should've been better prepared for this... but before this morning he never even thought that he would see her again, let alone make love to her. Still, he was sure just one time wouldn't matter-
