Come Back To Us - 48. Chapter 48

27th June, 1943

Dear Karl,

We are all doing well thanks to God’s mercy. I am happy to read that you are as well, and I am so sorry about your friend. May God protect him and keep him sane. I really hope he will be able to go back to his family sooner or later. We should never lose faith. I am sure this war will end one day.

And, oh, my dear, congratulations for being promoted to the rank of Lance Corporal! I knew you would do it. Robert and I are so proud of you. I am sure you parents would too if they knew about it. It is such a shame we cannot celebrate such a special occasion. But be assured that our thoughts are always with you. And I can perfectly imagine you flying an aircraft. Without having to kill human beings, pilot is a fascinating job.

As for George, he is doing fine as well. He still works at St Thomas’ hospital and gives so much of himself to treat the sick. This is impressive. He occasionally comes over to see us and we are always glad to welcome him. He never talks about you, but I am sure he thinks of you no matter how much he gives the opposite impression.

Little Jojo and his mother are doing fine as well. Their relationships have improved and it makes me so happy for them. Little Rosemary is doing well too and she misses you a lot although she only saw you twice, and yes, she still lives with Paul and Emma at the pub. George goes to check on her every week.

Besides, I have a very good piece of news that I have to break to you. Emma is pregnant and I am so happy about finally being a grandmother soon. We all hope you will be back to see the baby after he/she is born. You cannot miss that.

We are sending all our love to you and looking forward to seeing you again, soon hopefully.

Best regards to our favourite little Danish boy.

Margaret, Robert, Paul and Emma.

Karl was torn between smiles and tears as he kept rereading these lines over and over again, lying in bed, the only sound the quiet chatting of his peers, the few who were left.

He was to go back on a mission soon, a “Rhubarb mission” as they called it, so he hoped he would have news about Jørgen before he had to leave.

He sighed as he folded the letter and let it fall on his chest. It was weird because it had already been torn open when given to him. But he didn’t question it more than that.

It was weird too that he still thought about that night when they had had sex with Jørgen, even while being drunk, he could remember it so vividly. The way he had touched him….It hadn’t been out of lust.

He kept thinking about it for a while as his loud heartbeat pounded into his ears. He was under the strong impression that he was forcing himself to breathe to keep living.

Could it mean that…He truly loved him? Could he have been mistaken all along then?

Did George love him or did he just need him in a kind of way that was unhealthy?

He didn’t know what to think any longer…

Stop thinking, a voice in his head kept telling him. It’s useless. You’ll die before finding out the truth anyway.

Did he really enjoy hurting himself?

He thought about that dream he had had after being knocked unconscious on that boat instead. But it didn’t make things any clearer in his mind…. He sighed.

Was it really worth it to hang on misty hopes that may never find the light?

***

Arthur swore he could have torn that letter up in millions of pieces, but the rational part of him managed to prevent him from doing such a thing. No one could ever suspect anything. He could only pray for the bloody whore to have a miscarriage or for her to die while giving birth. He felt betrayed in a way he had never thought possible before he met him. He felt so stupid for ever having developed feelings for him. He had always thought he would be never able to love anyone. Yet the only person he fell in love with ripped his heart out of his chest, played with it, manipulating it always so carefully before stabbing it.

His jaw was clenched to the point it made his head hurt as he was struggling to hold his tears back. It was a sign of weakness. He knew that was wrong, but what was wrong had been the only thing able to make him feel alive.

Their tongues swirling gracefully, careless and sensual; their lips hungry for each other with such devouring passion; their burning bodies making only one, the soft caresses making them arch their backs.

All of this…This has just been “experimentation” as he had put it so well. Youth experimentation.

But he had cherished every second they had spent together so dearly.

He remembered the last time he had seen him; for Christmas. He wished he had never come. Why had he listened to that little Danish twat?

“Arthur! Please, wait! We can talk at least, can’t we?”

He didn’t want to talk to him for if he did, he knew he would hit him, and he wanted to avoid that on such an occasion.

“Arthur!”

He wanted to leave but Paul managed to hold him back.

“Piss off! Don’t touch me, for Christ’s sake!"

He jerked his arm as he stayed still.

Paul sighed.

“I’m so sorry. If you knew…I…I didn’t mean to ruin everything”

“Yet you have."

His words were so sharp that they cut the air in the space separating them. That invisible wall between them had been there for so long already.

“It’s not too late to make things up though, is it?”

“Yes, it is. There are just some things that once broken can’t be repaired. What happened between us is one of them.”

Paul sighed again as he glanced down. They were standing on the edge of the garden to get some privacy.

“I hate you for making me feel that way, for making me fall so hard for you. You know nothing about how I have been feeling during all this time. We should have never stepped beyond the boundaries.”

Nothing was said for a long while afterwards.

“You are capable of pretending that nothing ever happened, but I can’t. It was not just some game to me.”

He didn’t face him as he spoke. He simply couldn’t. He wished he could suffer as much as he had. More words were futile in such a situation.

Suddenly he felt a hand tugging on his sleeve weakly. He made the mistake of turning around. Their faces were too close to each other. He got lost into these mesmerising brown orbs and before he could prevent him, their lips united each other in a shy kiss. All of his anger, hate and bitterness faded away instantly in the darkness of the night.

He became intoxicated with the taste of his lips and the feeling of them touching. Rational thinking was not possible any longer.

He grabbed his face as he deepened the kiss and Paul’s soft moan drove him mad with love and desire, a desire to worship this body and soul with burning fervor. One hand slipped into his hair as the other cupped his cheek, one finger tracing his jawline.

He regretted that night so much, had cursed himself so many times for being so weak and yielding to him. What would his father think of him if he knew about what had happened between them? This was unworthy of royals, although not completely belonging to this world, much worse than what his own father had done in the past, and one part of him wanted to believe that was the reason why Paul would never want more, but his heart thought otherwise.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He punched his desk before he turned around and punched the window with such violence, but it wasn’t enough to make the pain fade. The glass shattered under such strength and he could only stare at his bleeding hand. He felt nothing. His eyes were devoid of any emotion. The bleeding of his hand was nothing compared to his bleeding heart.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door but he chose to ignore it.

“Sir? May I?” He recognised the voice through the door but dismissed it with a roll of his eyes as he glanced at the broken window.

This kept going but he would end up leaving in no time.

“Sir? I know you’re in there.”

He sighed in exasperation.

“I do not mean to disturb you, but I have got news about the missing Dane.”

Wonderful. As if he needed that. He glared as the door was being opened.

“Sir…” he froze in his spot before he could get too close. “What has happened to your hand…?”

“Nothing. It was just a mistake.”

That was what he had said. That's what they had had being reduced to. A mistake.

“But you’re bleeding! Let me get a doctor to treat this wound!”

“Shut up and tell me instead what you have learnt.”

He froze again at the threatening tone in his voice.

They stared into each other’s eyes intently and he sighed after a while. He should have been heartless, but he didn’t wish to anyone what he had been going through, even to his worst enemy.

“Get me George Hopkins to treat me.”

Hey everyone!
Oh God, there's quite an important discovery in this chapter... But maybe some of you had already figured it out... Well, I hope you enjoyed that chapter
Have a good day/evening/night and take care ❤️