After Dunkirk [Discontinued]

Eleven ~ Feeling

A/N: 🚨Trigger Warning🚨
Sexual Content and Physical Violence are in this chapter (they occur separately.)

"Thanks for helping me write this letter, Tommy. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"I actually do because you've said it about fifty times," he chuckles, placing the cap on the pen. "Do you want to lick it? The envelope, I mean."

"I'm glad you clarified," I chuckle, taking the envelope with garden flowers all over it and I seal it closed. "Writing the letter wasn't as painful as I thought it would be."

"Maybe not for you, but I'd rather hold Jimmy's hand for an hour rather than yours, thank you very much," Tommy jokingly says and I nod with a smirk. The room becomes silent and we both sigh a heavy breath at the same time. "Do you think she'll reply?"

"God, I hope so. I just need to know why she threw our entire future away," I exhale a heavy breath and place the envelope on the nightstand. "Even though she said she didn't love me, I know in my heart of hearts that she still does. I can feel it. She's my soulmate, Tommy."

Not wanting to further embarrass myself in front of my mate, I swipe my eyes with my thumb and index finger to dry my tears. I feel Tommy's hand on my shoulder and I chuckle lightly, hoping he won't give me shit about my show of emotion.

I've got about fifteen pounds on the bloke. I can take him if need be.

"I hope this works, too, Al, I really do," Tommy says, standing up from the bed and I thank him with a nod. "It's getting late. We should turn in, especially if you want to go to the mailroom in the morning because they open at eight and it's about a ten-minute walk."

"Sounds good, and listen, I know I've said it a lot tonight, but thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiles and walks over to the door, stretching his arms above his head and he exhales dramatically, making me laugh. "G'night, Al."

"Night, Tommy."

He closes the door and I sigh in relief, massaging my right wrist. Writing the full front and back of the notepaper made my hand cramp, but I know the pain will be worth it, especially if Dorothy responds.

This has to work. It just has to. I know my darling still loves me.

The photograph on the nightstand catches my eye and I pick it up with a smile and lay back on my bed. As I get comfortable, I think about how her face will look when she checks her mailbox and sees the letter with my name on it.

Even though Dorothy said she never wanted to see me again and never loved me, I have my doubts if she truly meant those words because her eyes and voice told a different story.

Am I right, Dottie? You still love me. My God, you're beautiful. I wish we could be together right now. I wish I could hold you and kiss you and tell you that you're the only woman for me.

The memory of when we were together that night in the barn stirs those familiar feelings in the pit of my stomach and my heart rate picks up in anticipation. Nervously biting my bottom lip, I slide my right hand down my chest to my stomach until I reach the waistband of my trousers and I palm myself over the material.

The pressure makes me groan in relief and I instinctively lift my hips, both wanting and needing more. With the anticipation nearly driving me mad, I hurriedly take off my shirt and undo my trousers.

"Blasted zipper," I swear through gritted teeth, bringing my right hand up to my mouth.

With a fair amount of spit in my palm and on my fingers, I slip my hand underneath the waistband of my knickers and wrap my hand around my dick. I gasp at the contact and start pumping my hand in a slow, rhythmic manner to work myself up gradually.