Emma
I traced the carved heart with my finger, feeling the rough wood beneath my touch. T + E. Just two letters, a heart and a star, but somehow it made everything feel safer, like a little pocket of the world belonged only to us.
Tommy's hand still held mine, his grip gentle but steady, and I let myself lean into it, letting the warmth seep through the chill in the air. The woods around us hummed softly, the only witnesses to our quiet rebellion against everything that threatened to pull us apart.
"I like it," I whispered, my voice barely above the rustle of leaves. "It feels… permanent."
He smiled, a little shy, like he wasn't sure he had the right to be happy.
"Permanent." He agreed.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting the moment stretch out. The weight of the coming days, the fear of losing everything, even the chaos waiting at home, seemed far away, pressed back by the simplicity of this — the two of us, our initials etched into a tree, the quiet of the woods surrounding us.
We stayed there a long while, just holding each other, breathing, letting the sun dip lower, painting the clearing gold. The picnic forgotten beside us, the laughter and worries of the world kept at bay.
It was ours. And for now, that was enough.
Tommy leaned back on his elbows, watching me with that steady gaze that made me feel like he saw right through me.
"After school… what do you want to do?" He asked me quietly.
I shrugged, twisting a loose thread on the edge of the blanket. "I don't know. I'll probably just get a job in town. Shop work, maybe. Someone has to help my parents with money. People don't have big dreams where I'm from."
He frowned, like he wanted to argue, but I pushed a smile onto my face before he could.
"I already know what you'll do. Law school. Your dad's firm. You've got your whole life mapped out."
His expression softened, but there was something troubled in it.
"I don't want to be away from you, Emma."
My chest tightened, and I looked away, pretending to fuss with the food.
"Don't be ridiculous. You can't give up on that. Not for me. Not for anyone. It's an opportunity people would kill for."
He sat up, his knee brushing mine.
"I don't care about the firm, or the plans, or any of it, if it means losing you."
The warmth in his voice nearly undid me, but I forced myself to stay steady. "Tommy… we'll find each other, if it's meant to be. That's what people always say, isn't it? 'If it's meant to be.'"
His hand slid over mine, fingers curling tight like he was anchoring himself and he pulled me onto his lap.
"Then let's make sure it is. I'll write you a letter every week. Like the soldiers did in the war, writing to their girls back home."
I laughed, though my throat was tight. "You're not going to war."
He grinned, boyish and sure. "It'll feel like it without you near."
The woods pressed quiet around us, our joined hands and bodies pressed close, the only things that felt real.
His words clung to me, warm and heavy in my chest. He wasn't joking. Not really.
Tommy's eyes searched mine, earnest in a way that made it impossible to look away. "Promise me you'll write back. Every week. Even if it's just a few lines. I don't care what you say, I just… I need to know you're out there, still thinking of me."
My lips parted, and for a moment I couldn't find my voice. "You really think letters will make a difference?"
"I know they will," he said firmly. "Because when I'm reading them, it'll feel like you're with me."
Something inside me softened, giving way. The boy holding me so close wasn't the polished son of a lawyer or the heir to a family name. He was just Tommy, looking at me like I was the most important thing in the world.
I squeezed his hand. "Fine. I'll write. But only if you promise yours won't be all full of fancy words from law books."
That crooked grin of his lit up his whole face. "Deal. No legal jargon. Just me. And you."
I shook my head, smiling despite the ache building in my chest. "You're ridiculous."
"Maybe," he said softly, putting his hands around my waist. "But I mean it, Emma. Letters, every week, until we see each other again. However long it takes."
I swallowed hard, tucking the moment into the part of me I knew would need it later, when everything felt unbearable.
"Alright. Letters, then."
For a long while we just sat like that, the woods whispering around us. And though the future pressed close and uncertain, right then it felt like we'd carved something permanent into the world — something only we could touch.
Tommy
Her promise still echoed between us, fragile and bright, when I leaned in again. This kiss was different — no unsure pause, no nervous hesitation. It was searching, as though the moment itself might slip away if we didn't hold onto it.
Emma's hands slid up my arms, warm against my shoulders, then over my chest. The thin barrier of my shirt did nothing to blunt the shock of her touch. I froze, startled — not by discomfort, but by how much I liked it.
She felt me tense, and for the briefest second her lips stilled, as if she worried she'd gone too far. But then her fingers pressed firmer, curving lightly over me, and something inside me gave way. I followed her lead, one hand cupping her face, the other sliding carefully down her arm, memorising the line of it, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.
Her breath hitched, quick and unsteady. The world beyond our little clearing — the woods, the summer air, even the future we'd just spoken of — seemed to dissolve. All that mattered was the heat between us, the pull toward each other magnetic, the way every inch of me felt alive under her touch.
I deepened the kiss, daring more this time, and she met me with equal fire. It was as if all the fear, all the unspoken worries, burned away in that closeness.
When at last we broke apart, foreheads resting together, both of us were breathing hard. Her eyes were wide, shining with something that felt both brand-new and ancient at once.
I brushed my thumb over her cheek, unable to stop smiling.
"I've dreamed about you," I whispered, the truth tumbling out before I could think better of it.
Her answering smile trembled, but it was fierce, too. "Then don't stop."