QL Reserve League - S1, R6 (Genres), Beater 1 - write a post-war fic [optional prompts: (quote) "Never regret. If it's good, it's wonderful. If it's bad, it's experience." Victoria Holt, (object) perfume

WC. 1028

Finally

The smell of her perfume was intoxicating. He'd been lying awake for hours, breathing her in, taking in every part of her. Her hand was clasped around his while she slept. Despite the discomfort of lying in the same spot for hours, he didn't dare move.

This was real. Finally. She was in his arms for real. He could kiss her for real. Hold her for real. No longer did they have to pretend. Or regret. They could just be. Forever.

Her eyes fluttered open, blinking in the morning sun that shone through the window. He'd half expected her to jump up, surprised to find herself where she was. But she didn't. All she did was smile.

"Morning," he said, happiness surging through him at just the sight of her.

"Good morning," she whispered in reply.

It had taken them a week to get to this point, but really, it had been years. Years of waiting. Years of knowing they wanted it, but they couldn't. Years of secret hand-holding, longing looks and no's.

They had been out together last night. Not as friends, but a date. A week after the war ended and things had been normal for a few hours. The grief, the loss, all forgotten for a few moments when it was just the two of them. Finally.

He dared to reach out, running the back of his fingers along her cheek. She didn't flinch like he thought she might have. Instead, her eyes closed, allowing him to continue. Another smile formed on her lips. When she opened her eyes again, he could see what she was thinking. What she felt. He felt it too.

I love you.

But wasn't it too soon to say it?

She shuffled closer to him, her lips drawing to his. It was a light, fleeting kiss, but still so good.

"That perfume," he mumbled. "You smell so nice."

"It's the one you gave me," she said. "All those years ago."

She was so close to him, bringing back the memories of last night. After their date, after they were alone in his room. Merlin, he wanted to relive that again. It wasn't like her to be spontaneous, but now that he thought about it, perhaps she hadn't been. Perhaps she had meticulously planned last night. Down to this very moment.

That sounded more like her. In control of every situation, even if he didn't realise it. He loved that about her.

His heart skipped about ten beats when she kissed him again. Tenderly, affectionately, lovingly. When they broke away, he was troubled. But not because of the kiss.

"What is it?" she asked, propping herself onto her elbow. She didn't seem concerned. More curious.

He looked into her eyes. She looked back. "I want to say it," he said. But she'd told him not to. The wrong moment would ruin it. It had to be special. He might regret it otherwise.

Rather than asking what 'it' meant, she nodded. A year ago had been the wrong moment. Alone in this very house. Everyone had gone to bed. It was in between the time of her arriving, and before the wedding. They were in the living room and she'd reached for his hand. She was scared. They all were.

Their eyes met, and there was so much loss; so much desperation. Why couldn't it be just the two of them, then?

"We have a war to fight," she'd whispered, sensing his want. "We can't."

"Can I at least say it?"

"Say what?"

"I lo -"

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Make it count,' she told him. "It's not something you want to regret."

There hadn't been another chance since. Until now. When everything was over and there was nothing coming between them anymore. When there were no regrets to be had.

"Will you regret it?" she asked.

"I never would have," he replied. "Not then, not now, not ever."

The smile returned once more. She nodded. "Then say it," she said.

He kissed her hard on the mouth, soaking up her scent. Would it feel like this every time they were together like this? He hoped so. It was the best feeling.

Pulling away, he cupped her face in his hands, looking at her in what he hoped was an affectionate way. He wasn't usually one to do something without being sure, and this wasn't an exception. He had never been more sure of anything in his life. He was ready to bare his feelings for her, for all to see. He didn't even care if she felt the same in return.

"I love you," he said. Finally. The words had been spoken out loud. What he'd felt for years, finally out in the open for her to hear.

Again, a smile from her. Was he really making her happy? Was he really able to achieve such a feat? By simply being himself? Was that enough for her?

It seemed to be.

"I love you, too."

The words were even sweeter coming from her. She meant it, he could tell.

He wrapped her in his arms once more, pressing kisses down the side of her face until she laughed and pushed him away.

"What?" he said, laughing also. "I have plenty of years to make up for."

"I know." Her expression sobered. "But we have forever to make up for it. A lifetime."

"You think?" he asked. His heart pounded against his chest. A lifetime. She considered these moments to last a lifetime. Forever, then some more.

"Do you?"

"I hope we have two lifetimes."

She laid her head on his chest, remaining silent for some time. Then, she lifted her head to meet his gaze. "I hope that, too."

They didn't speak after that. They simply laid like that for hours. He stroked her hair, and she fell back asleep. It was peaceful; it was nice. He still couldn't believe that they had finally reached the point where they could do this without feeling guilty. Nothing was stopping them now. Nothing was standing in their way.

They could just be themselves. They could be happy.

Finally.

Apparently taking 2 years off from writing has given me time to develop many Romione plot ideas lol. I still have more to come! I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you to the amazing Bex for beta-ing this for me!