Her View
Perched on the ledge of the window, she looked outside as dawn broke over the small French town. It was her favourite time of day, the sky vivid with pretty colours, the world slowly waking before it got into the busy, hectic pace she had grown accustomed to. This was get a getaway with him, an escape from the daily madness, if only for a night.
She took a long drag of her cigarette and drew his shirt tighter around her body – the fabric of the thick, white cotton against her skin giving her comfort. He was sound asleep on the bed, oblivious to the day break. After everything they had been through, she was happy to see him get some well-deserved rest.
She pondered the past few months, how she had gone from feeling thoroughly helpless and needing to escape, to finding contentment and even a hopeful future. In the midst of a seemingly endless war – it was ridiculous to feel this way, giddy headed, silly, and yet she felt reduced to these base school girl emotions. It was him and his beautiful blue eyes, his ardent passion and complete acceptance of her many flaws. She felt unworthy of this man, who put her on a pedestal.
When they both begged and manoeuvred their way to getting a pass to leave the hospital, she was excited and nervous. Their previous encounters had been quick and furtive, intimacy shrouded with the fear of getting caught. But now, they were free, if only for a night. She was surprised by how much restraint he showed. Taking her on a leisurely walk through the town, eating their meal as if they had all the time in the world, small touches, lazy smiles, and tiny caresses. It drove her crazy, she was beginning to feel a tight coil inside her that needed immediate release.
When they were finally alone, she practically pounced on him, needing to devour him whole, and punishing him for making her wait, torturing her with his teasing. When she saw him smirk at her reaction, she knew it was not innocent, denying her and prolonging their pleasure was part of his devious plan to reduce her to the needy creature she'd become. She playfully smacked his arm and it only encouraged him to take her immediately, still fully dressed, they made mad, frenzied love. She saw their reflection in the mirror, they looked dishevelled and passionate. Something about looking at their lovemaking, so raw and carnal, made her find her pleasure immediately, and she lost all inhibitions as she screamed his name.
She was no innocent and had known men before, but nothing had prepared her for the passion she found in Tom – it was like a wildfire. As they lay in bed, she turned to him and said, "I don't think I've ever been so glad to be in the care of such an exceptionally talented doctor…. who clearly knows his anatomy well," she laughed.
They continued flirting as he got up and poured her some wine, and they talked into the night, about silly, frivolous things, childhood dreams, and with every story, she learned more about this fascinating man. His sheer determination and commitment took him from the bowels of poverty to being one of the most talented young students studying medicine. They made love again, this time slower, languid, he was in no rush to seek his release and worshipped every inch of her body. When exhaustion finally came over them, and she felt herself succumbing to sleep, she leaned over and whispered, "I love you", not sure if his sleeping form had even heard her.
She relived this moment at the early hours of dawn, as she put her cigarette out and turned to face the sound she heard behind her. It was him, trousers slung low on his body with no belt to keep it modestly high. She smiled as she took him in, dishevelled hair, piercing blue eyes, firm chest with small marks dotted over his skin, reminders of their passionate night before. She couldn't resist looking further south, to his already erect member, feeling a bolt of lust run through her body. She could not have enough of him.
He caught her staring, and she should feel embarrassed, ashamed of her open appraisal of his body, any proper lady would. But was she had stopped being a genteel lady a long time ago, she was just a woman now who had seen so much of death that propriety and social graces seemed unimportant to her. The only thing that mattered was that the man she loved, desired her in this moment.
He smiled at her, and continued to walk towards her at a torturously slow pace. It shouldn't have surprised her that she was ready for him again. Only a few hours had passed since they had made love, but she felt in a constant state of arousal around him, and had come to expect quick intimacy wherever they could find it. To be able to take their time felt like a delicious luxury, and she was not about to waste a moment of it.
He made her feel alive in the middle of a dreadful war, living for the moment – past transgressions were irrelevant, unimportant in the present. The fragility of life made her determined to seek and cherish happiness where she could find it, and she found it in Tom. In his kindness and dedication, in his passion for his work and for her. This war would not end them, not when they had so much to live for.