The Way Back Home: A 1917 Fanfic

Chapter 37: My Love

Will saw the black of her pupils dilate with passion as he lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.... His blood burned within his body as he wanted to give her everything she desired from him. Caress and savor every inch of her, entwine his body with hers, and never wanting to have her gone from his arms again.

He never took his eyes off her as his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, his hands shaking with want of Amelia and anxiety of intentionally undressing in front of her for the first time. He undid his shirt slowly as she watched silently, button by button as she inched closer to him on the bed. A small smile crept to her rosy pink lips.

The welcome sight of his Sliver army dog tags greeted her as they hung from his neck.

Amelia saw the white sculpted flesh of his chest as he removed his arms from his sleeves. He was the same as she remembered seeing him on the train in his stateroom. He had the strong build of a trained disciplined soldier, yet his musculature was more subtle to the naked eye, more akin to an agile Olympic athlete than a bodybuilder. Her fingers reached out to journey down to the centerline of his abdomen, following a trail to his naval and then his waistline.

And the varying battle scars marked along his chest and back.

Her fingertips traced all the wounds imprinted on his upper body and Amelia saw his lip quiver with disbelief at her gentle touch as he held back a sob of his own.

She was a saint for not pushing him away in disgust just because of his painful looking battle scars.

Amelia felt each scar along his muscled back, her arms wrapped around him as her hands moved up to stroke his brown hair. Her nose brushed his as she was siting in his lap again. "You're so handsome, Will Schofield. Everything you are, is so perfect."

The lance corporal looked up at his love, seeing such genuine devotion in the green of her eyes, not a hint of manipulation in her features.

She was true in her words and how badly he wanted to bend to her wishes.

"Bless you, my Amelia. I want to do everything possible to make you happy, and let you know just how much I love you But, I cannot give you what you want... not yet...with how I was raised... I yearn to treat you with all the honor and respect that a lady such as you ought to be treated. I don't want you to wake up in the morning regretting what we had done together." His thumbs stroked along her blossom cheeks as her petal lips turned down in an understanding frown, the palms of his hands cupping both sides of her face. "Believe me, my darling; I want more than anything to feel your skin against mine. But as a man of principle, I cannot place my baser instincts above your safety and your health."

Amelia absorbed his words as he continued cradling her to him, his elongated fingers weaving through her silken ribbons of blonde hair. She leaned against the comforting warmth of his bare chest, her hands feeling along the solid muscles of his arms. Her fingers played with the dog tags around his neck.

Her soldier and protector... the strength of his arms was her shelter and his beating heart was her true home.

The tip of her thumb traced along his name and serial number that was engraved in the metal of his dog tags. She brought the tag to her lips and pressed a light kiss to the etched letters of his name.

Will recalled the words he had said to Tom about his medal that he had sold back in France. The disdain and bitterness in his voice.

It's just a bit of bloody tin. It doesn't make you special... it doesn't make a difference to anyone.

And here before him sat the woman he loved, kissing the tin of his dog tag as though it was an extension of himself.

Her cherry-pink lips opened as she finally answered her love's reasoning as to why they couldn't consummate their relationship. "I understand, Will. I'm sorry if it seemed like I was pressuring you. I don't want to make you feel like you have to do this."