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Tommy
"How long until then?" Tommy asked.
Lucille had told him about the plan as soon as she had gotten back from Amélie's farm. Dawson was no where in sight when she had arrived and she had found Tommy by the tree next to the fields. She had felt somewhat touched by the sight, he obviously loved it as much as she did.
Tommy was saddened by the news as much as she had been. They both knew it was what had to be done. Tommy couldn't abandon the fighting. But they couldn't help but mourn the time that they knew they would lose together.
"I'd say two weeks at most." She whispered into his chest.
They sat against the base of the trees, arms tangled together. She was surprised as he had welcomed her quickly into his arms, before she had even said a word. Lucille was more than willing to accept the embrace, as she tucked herself under his arms, feeling his gentle touch as his fingers ran their races across her cheek and forehead.
"That's not much time to make the most of." He said, and Lucille sighed.
She rolled over, leaning her chin against hands that were laced against his on his chest. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked up at him and smiled.
"You're right, that's not much time." She said. "But we will make the most of it. If you promise me."
Her voice broke into a whisper, her hot breath only just reaching to tickle against his lips. Their attachment to each other had happened suddenly, but Lucille couldn't find the strength in her to pull away. She didn't want to pull away. There was too much telling her to stay, to lean in, to remain by his side for the rest of her life.
"I promise you." He hummed into her ear, watching a smile broke onto her peaceful face.
Tommy couldn't help but look at her. But she was much more than painting in a gallery or a statue in a museum. Lucille, in his eyes, was the flower on the war field, the rose amongst dandelions. Lucille was the beauty that only few could be fortunate to lay eyes on, and though Tommy was not a lucky man, he was delighted to say that she was the woman that had saved him, more than once, from more than just war. She had saved him from himself, even if she didn't know it.
Tommy was drawn to the way her eyes fluttered shyly when he looked at her, batting like a butterfly's wing against her soft skin. He was enamoured by the warmth that she filled him with, after struggling so long in the murky darkness that the suddenness of battle had forced him to endure. It was a feeling of hope and comfort that he wished to contain for the remainder of his life.
He had never believed in a kind of love that was only found in stories like the ones Ada had read religiously. They were too sudden. He believed them to be unrealistic and too optimistic. But Lucille had changed his thought completely.
"What are you thinking about?" Lucille asked him, as she brought her hand to his face, smoothing out the pensive lines in his face. "You look awfully caught up in something."
He smiled as he peered down at her. She bit her lip as her hands trickled across his face, her touch as soft as cotton. Her words were true: he did feel like he was caught up in something. For the first time ever, Tommy was torn between home and away.
"Nothing that would interest you." He lied, and Lucille pouted playfully.
"I'd say a penny for your thoughts, but I don't have a penny." She said. Her tone was playful as she leaned in, teasing him. "Will a kiss do instead?"
Tommy's brows raised at her sudden boldness before he smirked. "I suppose it would."
Without a second more, Lucille's lips were on his. He was overcome by the scent of her floral perfume, soothing his senses. As their lips passionately moved together, Tommy felt as if a single touch more from her delicate finger and he would ignite there and then, on the spot.
"Lucille."
Her name tumbled from his lips like honey. But he lengthened each letter, as if savouring the sweetness of their taste against his tongue. Not one other name had ever sounded so right against his lips, it slipped so effortlessly that he said it again.
He felt her hand as it trailed down his chest slowly, her mind more preoccupied. She moaned against his kiss as he pulled her closer by the waist, moulding together like clay. Lucille's hand drifted further and further down, until her fingers rested over his belt, her skin touching his bare skin. He could sense where she was going. It surprised him.
"Are you sure." He murmured against her lips.
Lucille pulled away, her sparkling eyes staring back into his. Her darkened mouth twisted into a pretty smile. The look that she gave him sent shivers down his back and sent a heated flush to his face. She pressed her lips to his once again.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
