Collection of One-Shots

》when its over

"You will come back to me. Won't you James?" There is a lump in her throat that seems to be ever present since it had become official that he would shipped across the channel, to fight in the war. The Captain placed his hand at the base of her neck, a brief smile taking over his face.

"Of course, my love. This is not goodbye, I will be with you again soon." Even though they stood in the foyer of her parent's home in the English countryside he leaned down and quickly kissed her lips, how lush and soft they were against his own rather thin ones. Her eyes fluttered shut, and with much hesitance and concerned for decency and image, she raised her gloved hands to the small lapels of the brown uniform coat.

︽︽︽

His features were harsh, his nose perfectly straight, cheekbones seemingly chiseled from only the finest marble, or perhaps that was not hard even, maybe they were carved from granite; and his jaw was sharp lines and angles. It was so unfitting for him, his personality was nothing but kind, and she constantly thanked her father for that one summer's eve when he hosted a party, his friend, Major Jamie Stewart, who brought an unwilling officer as well.

That was how she met James, she loathed the parties her parents threw, the constant need to be dolled up, forced into a corset so tight it made breathing a very difficult chore. And as soon as she came of age, they showed her off like she was a trophy, a porcelain doll. There were always willing suitors at the parties, but none caught her eye. The only man that had ever caught her eye was the one who paid no mind to her as she entered the room, and through the crowd she eventually found him standing at the door, his eyes focused on the field of horses across the small drive.

"They are beautiful creatures are they not?" It was her that had spoken the first words, and when he turned with his blue eyes, she practically gave him her heart right then. It took another party of such and a day aiding her father when the Calvary charged for James to ask permission to court the Brigadier-General's daughter, and his only one at that.

Of course his request was supplemented with excess formalities as both he and James were still dressed in uniform but the conversation ended on a light note when he mentioned that she was a free spirit, like a mustang yet to be tamed; that was what James admired about her so. She was not one of the prim and proper ladies from the streets of London that walked with chins in the air, she was wild, young, she went barefoot in the pasture, rode her horses without a saddle and refused to ride side saddled.

The courtship lasted a year before James Nicholls was down on one knee, in the middle of a meadow where they had rode together. Of course, she had said yes. James was sweet, even for a captain in the military, he was tender and kind, she loved him. That was three months ago, and should he not be sent away for war their wedding would be in a month to the day, fate was determined to keep them apart.

In his last week they spent a numerous amount of time together, her house was empty as her mother fled to her sister's house in London, not baring to be alone once more as her husband was being shipped off. She left without telling her own daughter goodbye. But James stayed, they would talk, ride, and even though the maids worked diligently to prepare meals at odd times of the day and night they both invaded the kitchen, set on looking for sweets and making any and every type of pudding.

He had taken the guest room, as he was nothing short of a gentleman, but she stayed with him until her eyes would no longer stay open and he would carry her back to her own bed, pulling the sheets up to her chest and kissing her forehead for the night. That carried on for nearly the entire week but when their last night together surfaced she put all decency aside and was set to give herself to her future husband.

From within her wardrobe she pulled down the sky blue box and placed it on her bed before lifting the lid, its contents were a gift from James's fellow commanders and privates, she blushed madly when they spoke of what was within but the crème satin was like silk against her fingers. Delicate as the piece was she pulled it over her head in a haste, and looked to the mirror, unpinning the curls that had been pulled back for the entire day. With a deep breath she pulled on her dressing gown but did not tie it off at the waist, instead she loosely held the fabric together and with trembling nerves she walked down the hall, slipping into James's room.