Karson Hewitt
His lips read the letter out to me. Mine trembled. My eyes watered. His stayed on the thin, single sheet. His hands cupped my cheeks. Mine gripped his shirt.
His train would arrive tomorrow afternoon. My mother let him stay the night. She gave us the guest house for the night. Barely anyone came home from war. Especially not boys from Clovelly.
"I'm going to come home to you, Kar." He kissed my neck, in each other's arms we laid on the queen sized bed. "You better," I softly weeped, his finger tips wiping my tears away. "When I come home, I'm going to marry you," He bit his lip, slipping a ring out of his pocket, sliding it onto my finger. "I love you Karson Hewitt," he whispered, and I grabbed his face to kiss him. "I'll be home to you before you know it," His words were mumbled in between kisses, and his pants were on the floor. We had never been intimate, but I insisted—afraid of this being the last time we'd be alone, or together.
"I'm yours forever, Harry," I cried out, and he kissed me passionately. "You better come home to me."
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P.O.W. - H.S.
FanfictionP.O.W. - Prisoner Of War. Styles, Harry Company 423 B+ Karson Hewitt and Harry Styles are infamously star crossed lovers in the small town of Clovelly, England. Harry's draft into the war intercepts their love-until they meet again, 10 years later.
