The Acquisition of Memories

by BorneToFlow

Embarking on their honeymoon, Charles and Elsie begin to process the events of their wedding day and those leading up to it. A series of internal reflections; lengthy, fun & sometimes in-depth conversations; &, interspersed with requisite amounts of playful holiday fun & honeymoon adult times. From Ch19 rating is a tasteful but strong M. Some S5/6 JF canon is blissfully ignored.

13. Chapter 13- All of These Words

The Acquisition of Memories. Chapter 13- All of These Words

The music seems to fade into the background and they dance only to the tune of one another, their movements fuelled by the beating of their hearts against their chests and the silent, shared warmth of their bodies which grows like a halo around them.

As they slowly glide into stillness at the end of the piece playing on the wireless, the final swirl of Elsie's skirt sweeps itself around the Charles' calves before gently, silently, settling back into place around her stockinged legs, signaling their return to the here and now. In unison they lightly closed their eyes, lean in and press their lips together, holding the memory and truth of their moment of perfect love between them with infinite tenderness.

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Charles still holds Elsie's hand in his as it rests close to his chest in the small space between them. His fingertips run lightly up the back of her own and then he moves his thumb around and intimately presses firm, longing circles into her palm. His head bows to her slightly and he looks intently into her eyes as his voice, husky and halting with nervous need, rolls quietly across her cheek.

"I had rather thought I might have bungled everything and offended you just then" and he looks at her a little sheepishly from under his questioning brow.

He looked so uncertain still, even after that dance of perfect accord and Elsie cannot really fathom why. She is so close to him she can feel the thrumming of air from the bottom of his chest as he speaks, and along with the heat building in her hand as he traces over the bumps and dips of her palm, she feels a long shiver run around her ribs and chest.

"Mr Carson," she replies, "once more, I can assure you that you have not offended me. Surely you must have some inkling as to what your words mean to me… what they do to me when I hear you speak so truly?" His eyes soften lovingly, and with quite some relief, as he holds her faithful gaze. "I had only just finished re-reading your letter from yesterday in my dressing room, and it was because of those words that I rushed to be near you again."

"Do you mean you brought it here with you?" he asks, looking decidedly embarrassed now as he thinks of how florid he feels his writing was. He has now had enough distance of time to build up some real misgivings about what he had previously imagined would actually be appropriate when he wrote it. He feels the heat rising up his neck and turning his ears red.

"Of course I did, Mr Carson"

"And... you did not find it …too… ridiculous?" he asks nervously, still looking to her for approval with his doleful eyes.

"Of course not!" she replies strongly, and then softer, "Believe me, Mr Carson, when I tell you that any man who can use the word 'verbosity' in a love letter and still manage to melt his lady's heart, should have very few qualms indeed about his way with words!" Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she gently ribs him, but her overwhelming love for him shines brighter as she looks up at him. She turns serious then and holds his gaze intently so that he could see the truth of her next admission. "I could never part with it, Mr Carson." She whispers low, her accent thick and her voice choked with emotion. "I shall cherish it and everything that came with that letter for as long as I live. I love you, Charles Carson."

It is the first time she has actually said the words out aloud to him. He feels hot tears rise from his heart to his eyes yet again, stinging the back of his nose. Can I not control these things anymore? Charles chastises himself internally. He grasps her hand even tighter and turns it to place a hot kiss onto her palm, trying to hide his eyes from her gaze, but the stinging salt water drips warm onto her fingertips and she lovingly wiped them against the others that slowly fall across his smooth cheek. He looks to her again, finally safe enough in her embrace to be completely vulnerable, and with a dry and constricted throat, with no person or paper or pen to act as an intermediary, he tells her, "I love you, too, Elsie Carson. Always."

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