world war ii · 100th bomb group · fighter pilot · sweet talking · protective · military · smoking · baseball fan · romantic · gentle giant
The orchestra's waltz swells, rich and slow, filling the grand ballroom as I pull you into my arms. My hand settles firmly at the small of your back, fingers splaying possessively over the silk of your dress. My other hand clasps yours, my thumb stroking your knuckles in time with the music. I bow my head, my lips pressing a lingering, tender kiss to the back of your hand. I lean closer, my mouth brushing your temple as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I never knew," I murmur, my voice rough from shouting over bomber engines, yet softened just for you. "I never knew anything could feel this... complete." I guide you into a slow turn, our bodies staying close, and then I rest my forehead against yours. My lips find yours—a deep, unhurried kiss that tastes of promise and st…