Lips
A/N: These chapters are actually a continuation of "Willabeth drabbles".
Since AWE is out, the drabbles pertain directly to AWE. It was better to place the rest of the AWE drabbles into this story, as they all correlate. : )
Elizabeth lay in darkness and silence, her eyes barely adjusting as she opened them. A faint filtering of light had crept through the window, causing a golden streak to appear on the wall.
She sighed in adulation as she recognized that the uncomfortable draft which normally assaulted her body at sunrise was no longer, and instead was a heavy warmth emanating from a body pressed against hers. She smiled joyfully as the body drew closer, and she could discern the beating of a heart against her back.
She nigh cried out in elation as those lips, her husband's lips, pressed against her bare skin, sending a jolt of uncontrolled emotion ebbing through her, an emotion she had not felt for ten years. With an undulating flash, she was recalled to the day of his departure, whence kisses burned like a passionate fire, thrusting through them fierce electricity.
"Elizabeth", Will Turner murmured, his voice wracked with sentiment, almost a starving desperation for her touch, a desperation to restore pure love into his heart.
"Mrs. Turner, I love you", he continued in a whisper, his breath quavering in her ear.
"Will", she gasped, her own heart nearly bursting at the sound of her name, as she was abruptly quieted by the demanding touch of his lips upon hers. How she would never tire, only further desire the feel of his lips against hers; for so long she had only the memory of his touch to console her. In dreams, he would reach her, but never touch her, his ghostly form unable to provide any comfort before he vanished away…a painful struggle in his eyes was eminent, only able to carry with him the emotions he had felt before, for in the land of the dead, he was left emotionless.
"I love you", she whimpered, yearning to fill her beloved's void.
Breathing heavily, he suddenly broke away, meeting Elizabeth's eyes which glistened with teardrops. His hands gently caressed her, and he no longer felt desperate as she nestled against him, her hands weaving across his chest where the scar that had been was no longer. Everything was but a distant memory, the Flying Dutchman, the chest, the heart, the scar….the entire curse was immaterial, nonexistent.
He brought his lips to his wife's forehead and kissed gently, inducing a wave of comfort to ripple between them. Elizabeth brought her hand to those lips and smiled contentedly, knowing that the pain and torture was forever gone, that bliss had intervened and overcome.