Later, when she was by herself, Ruth would reflect on the change in her and the cause of it. She liked to think—and it was indeed a fact—that Harry Pearce had been the absolute most important element of creating the woman she now was. But Harry wasn't the only source of how she viewed the world. Later, she would pause and remember George and the gift that he had given her in their brief time together.
For almost a year, she had lived with him and played the part of his wife. She had not lived with a man since before she started at Five. That 'before' part of her life that, looking back, seemed more like a rough draft to her life than any real life at all. She'd loved and lost plenty back then, but it was all small. Practice for the bigger things to come. But then she met George and he brought out in her a love of simplicity. She'd always wanted more from life. Her world had been small, and she wanted something exciting. Five certainly gave her that. And George showed her that a life lived with love and joy could be important and beautiful. Until, of course, it was all ripped away. And Ruth was very much convinced that such a simple, elegant life was not for her. She'd lost that privilege. Harry Pearce had created something bigger in her. Something that could only ever exist in that Cypriot sunshine for a short time before the shadows claimed her once more.
And in that moment, with Harry's body covering hers in bed, Ruth thought not at all of George. But she did think about the fact that joy and love were important and could exist side by side with the darkness they inhabited. Their love could be a light to shine through that. And as she wrapped her arms around Harry and she felt his tongue slide against hers, she let out a happy little sound. She was happy. She was happy, and they were going to get married, and they could have this to shelter them from the death and destruction that would otherwise dog their steps.
Only a few short months ago, Ruth had been all but convinced that she was not worthy of happiness. She had made her choice to be changed by Harry and their world with Five, and in that choice, she had forfeited the right to have any kind of good life for herself. For how could the pure, bright flame of love she and Harry had kept burning all these years ever possibly survive when horrors sucked all the oxygen away?
But Ruth felt differently now. She knew differently now. They could have this. They could cling to each other and to their love and find their small corner of happiness in an otherwise cruel and unforgiving world.
Harry pulled away, breathing heavily. "Ruth," he practically growled.
Ruth looked up at him in the dark shadows of her bedroom. She trailed her fingertips down his dear face. Rationally, she knew his face bore the weary lines of his difficult life and the age brought on by the drinking he did to cope with it. But love was hardly ever rational. Certainly her love for Harry was the most irrational thing she'd ever experienced in her life. Still, she found his face dear and handsome. It was his face. The face of her future husband.
"It's late," he whispered. He leaned in and kissed her again, softly. "We ought to get some sleep."
His words were benign. And he had told her already that he was tired. But there was a note of something in his voice that told her something else.
Ruth frowned, and when Harry tried to climb off of her, she stopped him.
"It's not so late. We…we can still sleep…after," she stammered. The darkness of the room was kind, just now; she would never be able to say such things if they could see each other in the light.
He gently pushed her hair back from her face. "I know," he answered. "But after the day I've had, don't you think the timing is a bit wrong?"
Ruth had not really thought of that, the idea of Harry driving up to Scotland, killing an old friend in vengeance, and then driving back to London to bed her.
His voice was as gentle as his touch. "There will be time for us, Ruth, I promise you. I don't think it would shock you to know that I'm quite looking forward to that time."
Harry had once told her that there would be time to grieve but that there were things that had to come first sometimes. That was true. She'd lived that truth time and again. But this wasn't like grieving. Quite the opposite. And so she told him, "I don't doubt that there will be time for us. We're going to have a whole life together. But I…" She trailed off, trying to do what Harry had always counseled her to do: take a breath and find her words. "Harry, I agreed to marry you yesterday despite the appalling timing. And I am going to make love to you tonight unless you can't or really don't want to. I don't care that the timing is bad. In fact, I think that's precisely why we've got to take the time for ourselves when we can. We've got a million things ahead when morning comes and we have to go back to work and back to the world outside these four walls. So shouldn't we take the opportunities presented to us?"
Even in the dark shadows, she could see him grin. "Where did this wisdom come from?" he chuckled.
Ruth pulled him into her embrace, reveling of the feel of him surrounding her and pressing her into the mattress. "I've learned a lot in the last few years. I missed far too many opportunities by being afraid or by thinking I didn't deserve to be happy."
Harry looked at her quite seriously. "I don't want you to be afraid of me, Ruth. And I don't want you to ever think you don't deserve happiness. You deserve it more than anyone I've ever known."
"So do you, Harry," she responded, just as insistent. "And don't you think we deserve to be happy tonight?"
There were no words, then. Harry kissed her again, fervently. Their hands fumbled as they undressed each other with slight difficulty. Despite what Ruth had said, it was indeed quite late and they were both tired. But they did manage to toss all their clothes off and at last could feel each other wholly bared.
Harry's hands were strong and large and seemed to be everywhere at once. His touch electrified her, causing her to gasp and arch against him. The way he trailed wet kisses all over her body created a frenzy within her, and she hardly knew what he was doing until suddenly he spread her legs wider and slipped a finger inside her. Ruth moaned, canting her hips to guide his touch. Her eyes fluttered closed as she focused on the incredible sensations. She was right on the edge, her legs trembling and her lungs gasping for air when he was suddenly gone.
Her eyes snapped open to see Harry position himself before her. He paused, poised at her entrance, and looked into her eyes. Despite her glassy gaze, Ruth felt herself smile. She reached out to him. Harry pushed inside her, and they both let out sounds of deep contentment. He leaned in and kissed her for a moment before he started moving within her. They found their rhythm soon enough, and Ruth was back on the knife's edge of oblivion once more.
She had to turn her head to gulp air as her whole body shattered and she practically saw stars. Harry grunted and sped up his thrusts. Ruth clung to him, riding out the waves of her pleasure has he found his. And then he jerked, letting out a low groan, and slowed.
The room was still except for their panting. Harry rolled off her, but Ruth wouldn't let him get too far. God, after that, she didn't want to ever let him go.
Sweat and sex filled the air. It had been a long time since Ruth had felt herself doze off in that beautiful feeling. And knowing that it was Harry's chest where she rested her head, knowing it was his hand trailing over her spine, knowing it was Harry who had given her the engagement ring that glinted in the dim moonlight, it was the happiest Ruth had felt in a very, very long time.
Tomorrow would be all the harder for having not slept much tonight, but Ruth didn't regret it in the least. These moments of happiness were worth it. That's what mattered.