by Haley Jenner
Belle Baby, Happy Birthday. I love you. A way to keep me with you while I'm gone. A x
I miss him immeasurably, so I get drunk. Really, really drunk. Jake, Aubrey and Darci all join me and the four of us pass out at some ungodly hour. I sleep properly for the first time in over a month, knocked out with booze. I feel even shittier the next day, vowing never to do it again. I wear his necklace always. I wish I could ingrain it into my skin so it was part of me.
My days pass with longing and I live for the days I get to hear his voice. But I almost feel worse after I do. I feel lost in the days that follow us being able to speak. The feeling of separation at its worst.
I make an appointment at a tattoo parlor in Fall City. Call it impulse. Call it desperation. Whatever it’s called, it makes me feel better. I have our Maple Leaf tattooed onto my left side, along my ribs. I want it clean, to the point, so I have it inked in black and grey. Except the inner detailing, that I have done in a deep emerald green. It hurts like a bitch and I take reprieve in the pain. It helps my mind focus elsewhere for the duration. When it's finished, I love it and I can't wait for Archer to see it when he comes home.
Another month has now passed.
April brings sunny days with cool weather and I find myself resenting the sun, wanting Mother Nature to reflect my constant somber mood. Two months without him. Eight weeks. Sixty days.
God, I miss him.
Jake and Janie survive much like I do. Busying themselves with life. They speak with him as often as I do and similar to me, their conversations are short. I think Janie finds this time easier. Last time they had no contact, she had no way of knowing where he was, if he was okay. This time is different and because of this she copes better than me. While Janie revels in the fact that she has some contact with him, this isn’t enough for me.
May comes and marks over 3 weeks since Archer and I have had contact. I feel sick with the longing to hear his voice every day. When he finally calls, I cry. I can't help it. It's hard for him to hear, but I can't control it and he soothes me the best he can through the line. He sounds tired, weary, but he tells me he loves me and that he’s safe. He tells me he misses me like crazy.
June brings brighter, warmer weather and I spend time at the Maple every day, trying to feel as connected to Archer as I can. This month also watches Archer's birthday pass without us being together. He turns 27 and I can't speak to him to tell him Happy Birthday. This I hate, so I do what I vowed I wouldn’t do again. I get drunk, really fucking drunk. This time it's just Jake and I. Archer would kill me if he knew I was encouraging Jake to drink. Encouraging isn't exactly the right word. We’re equals; he may only be 17 but he needs the distraction as much as I do.
I had put two letters in Archer's bag before he left, one for his birthday. His present? A few pics Aubrey took of me, scantily clad in lingerie and the like. Pales in comparison to his gift to me.
July. The greatest month to ever exist. The month Archer comes home. Only two weeks until I see him. It sounds like a blink in time, but every single day drags. I’ve work to keep myself busy, adding more to our home. Decorating the walls with photos of the two of us. Removing some of the more feminine touches throughout and replacing them with more neutral colors. Grey, white, black. Hoping that when Archer returns to our space, our home will reflect the both of us. I want more than anything for him to be comfortable here. So, I nest, constantly, trying to make it perfect. When I allow myself rational thought, I realize it’s not necessary. Archer would be happy anywhere, as long as we were together. But busying myself with menial tasks helps the time crawl by just that little bit faster, bringing me closer to Archer.
Janie tells me she wants to have a celebratory BBQ as a welcome home, but I know Archer will hate this. She seems to need it though; it offers her distraction and who am I to begrudge her that? She’s as nervous as I am to see him again.
I know that the Archer I got to know, the Archer that I fell in love with, the Archer that I love completely, may have changed. A person can't be exposed to that kind of environment and come out scar free, visible or not. I saw the haunted look in Archer when he came home last time. Sure, it replaced the emptiness that I’d been so used to seeing in him. I almost welcomed the haunted look, it showed he was living again. It began to dim over the time we had together and while it never completely erased itself from his soul, there was a happiness within him that I’d never seen before.
Last time I spoke to him he tried to tell me he'd get his own way back to Carnation, but this time I stood my ground. I need to be there when he lands. I won't wait a moment longer to see him.
I take my time getting ready. It's July, the sun is warm, so I dress in a cap sleeved sun dress. Green of course. No panties as requested. Leaving my hair out, it billows around my lightly made-up face and down my back. Archer prefers it that way. My outfit is completed with his necklace, the pendant sitting in the center of my chest bone, clear to the eye.
Chapter Thirteen
Archer
The sun is warm when we disembark from the aircraft and my legs work hastily to move my body faster than the other passengers. My need to see Belle, my need to touch her, to smell her, to kiss her, forcing me through the dawdling men, women and children to get through security and to her as soon as physically possible. I wait impatiently in lines, my feet tapping in noticeable agitation. Finally, after what feels like hours, I push through the doors marked as arrivals and into the mass of waiting people.
My eyes start scanning immediately, flicking from face to face, working to locate my girl. My feet continue to move as I search and soon enough, I see her. She’s there, looking as beautiful as fucking ever, waiting for me. She’s standing towards the back, allowing the families front and center. Sweet. Always so fucking sweet.
Fuck I’ve missed her.
My heart aches with it, even now. Her body language gives away her nerves; she's massaging her hands, bouncing on her feet, anticipation clear in her movements. I give myself this moment, paused in my approach, to just look at her. Take in the woman that consumed every one of my thoughts when I was deployed. The woman that made my heart grow weary with our distance. The woman who, now standing close enough to recall the exact shade of her eyes, lips, skin, that makes my heart race in my chest.
Belle’s large eyes scan the crowd, watching everyone else. Observing the hope and impatience shooting through the small cluster of people. Smiling in obvious affection at reunions, both emotional and joyous. She must sense my stare because her eyes flick up fast and after too many fucking days to count, meet mine. Chocolate. Large and round that begin to water immediately. So fucking happy to see her, I give her my biggest smile. She runs then, pushing her way through the few people blocking her path to get to me. Dropping my bag, I hold my stance ready for her impact and jumping as she reaches me, her legs wrap around my waist as I catch her. Wasting no time her lips crash onto mine and surrounded by strangers and similar exchanges, we lose ourselves in a hard kiss.
Groaning into her mouth, I pull back to see her face, skin tracked with lines of tears, her eyes taking in every inch of my face. Staring at one another we take a moment to just be. Running her hands over my shorn head, she pouts purposefully, causing me to laugh. "It'll grow back," I console her. My eyes drop to her chest where the shine of her pendant sits against her skin. Smiling I trace the line of the chain with my finger. "Look's good, baby." Peppering kisses across my face she tells me she loves it.
Squeezing me tightly once again her tears wet the shoulder of my shirt. "I missed you so fucking much," she confesses into my neck, her composure dissipating into the air, her thick, stuttered sobs vibrating into my skin.
“Hey, hey,” I pull her farther into my body, dropping my face into the open expanse of her neck. “Belle. Baby, I’m here. Right here. I’ve got you, beautiful girl. I’ve got you.” She takes another minute or so to settle, her face remaining planted into my neck. "Let's get outta here, Belle." I keep hold of her, le
aning down to reclaim my duffle.
Finally, pulling her tear stained face from my neck, she begins to untangle her legs and I grunt in protest. Laughing lightly, she touches her mouth to my ear. "I'm not wearing any panties someone might catch a glimpse of my butt if we walk like this." Reluctantly, I let her drop her legs down and groan out loud as her body drags along mine, against my straining cock. Belle's words daring me to blow a load in my pants. Winking at me she grabs my hand and begins to walk ahead.
Fuck, I've missed her. Even this small intimacy, holding her hand. Being able to feel her soft skin in my palm. Breathing in her scent. I feel at home. Hearing the soft husk of her voice, the scratch of her laughter. I feel an immediate sense of calm. I cannot wait to slide inside of her. Thank fucking god my jeans work well enough that the people surrounding us can't see me standing to attention.
She looks so beautiful. Her thick dark hair is falling over her shoulders, her green dress falls mid-thigh, comfortably hiding her naked ass. I walk up beside her, throw my arm over her shoulder and pull her close to my side. Planting a kiss to the top of her head, I take a deep breath, recalling the scent of her hair and smiling. "Hard and rough, baby," I whisper into her ear. My voice is hard, coarse, giving away how much I need exactly that. Walking is uncomfortable and adjusting myself in my pants, I get only a small reprieve. Belle's teeth bite into her bottom lip, attempting to hide her smirk at my obvious discomfort. I growl into her ear in frustration and she laughs softly. Fucking music. I love that sound.
I look down at her as we walk, letting her guide our way through the people. I can't wait to get home, spend the afternoon lost in her body. Finally get the opportunity to explore every inch of her again after too many long months. Reaching the car, I feel the overwhelming need to taste her again. So, I do. Pushing her against the car door, I kiss her. Belle returns my kiss with as much fierceness as I give her and gliding my hand up the inside of her thigh, I feel her bare and wet. "Fuck, baby, you're drenched," I murmur before stroking my tongue against hers again.
Voices approaching pull us from our exchange, leaving both of us needy and wanting. A young couple walk by, offering us a knowing smirk and Belle giggles into my chest, embarrassment shading her creamy skin. "Come on you. Keys," I demand.
We’ve barely made it onto the freeway when Belle's hand begins moving up my thigh. Glancing in her direction her smile is seductive and my cock lengthens in my pants. No words pass between us as she frees me from my boxers, I groan when I fall into her hand, hot and heavy. Moisture beads at my head almost instantly, at the feel of her small hand squeezing me. The interior of the Wrangler is too expansive for her to use her mouth so she works me hard with her hand, firm and swift in her movements, squeezing and sliding. It takes no time at all before I blow over her hand on a loud shout and she smiles victoriously. Using my thumb, I drag along my release, spilled over her hand before pushing my thumb between her juicy lips. Dragging her tongue along my thumb, she lazily pulls it from her mouth on a pop. She moans at my taste, making my dick stir again, my appetite for her nowhere near satisfied.
Driving until I see an exit, I pull off the freeway with a screech of my wheels, continuing until I see backwoods. Pulling the car into the scrub I release my seatbelt and palm my throbbing cock. "Jump on, baby," I invite on a wicked grin and her teeth drag across her bottom lip in anticipation. Climbing into my lap she settles herself with her back to my chest, straddling my thighs. Foreplay is completely unnecessary the anticipation having built over the last few months.
Positioning myself at her entrance I repeat my earlier words. "Hard and rough," and her only response is to watch me over her shoulder. Tip in, I hold her hips hard and impale her onto my length, ecstasy clouding my vision when I'm buried deep. "FUCK ME. Baby you're so fucking tight," I bellow, my tone hungry and constricted. Belle screams and her sounds are incoherent, unhinged.
Easing her hips back up deliberately, I pause only briefly before slamming her back down, fully seating myself once again. She feels fucking amazing; so tight, hot and wet. Our movements are rapid; Belle pushes down as hard as I pull her. She drops a hand to her pussy, fingers sliding over her clit, cupping herself, allowing her to feel our connection. "Say it," I ground out and she complies immediately.
"I. LOVE. YOU." Her words are disjointed, cracked along a needy moan.
"I'm there, Belle. Baby, come for me," I scratch out and a few more thrusts has both of us peaking, our sounds loud and hoarse.
Both our bodies are covered with a sheen of sweat, our breaths heavy as Belle's body collapses against my own, her head on my shoulder. Turning her face into my neck she giggles softly against my skin before kissing the skin under my ear. The after-sex giggle. I’ve come from the depths of hell, straight back into fucking heaven.
Annabelle
The drive is nice, relaxing almost. I watch him as he drives, face turned so I can stare at his profile. It almost feels surreal, being so close to him. Knowing that I can touch him whenever I want, hear the gravel of his voice, smell him. Every so often he turns towards me and he'll wink, smile, or bring my knuckles to his mouth to brush his lips along. He seems tired, weary. His hair is shorn close to his head and while he’s still unfairly handsome, I miss his longer hair already. His body seems bigger, stronger almost, bicep muscles clearly defined in his tight black shirt. Facial hair decorates his face, its scruffy and rough, as though he hasn't shaved in a month or so. It looks good, but a contrast to his shorn head. It adds a roughness to him that would make him unapproachable to those unknown.
"You're gonna hate this but Janie has organized a bit of a get together for you. Today. When we get back," I test.
I watch as he closes his eyes slowly, breathing deeply through his nose, his mood changing immediately. "No," he flat lines, anger prominent in the curtly delivered words.
Bringing his hand to my mouth, I kiss his knuckles. Holding them against my lips I graze my teeth against them, thinking on my next words. "That's what I said," I start. "But she needs this, Arch, it’s been hard on all of us, you being gone. It's not big, I promise and we'll stay for an hour. Max."
Glancing over at me he scans my face, barely nodding in agreement. "An hour, that’s it. But I need you by my side, Belle, don't leave me." His voice his quiet, uncertain almost. I squeeze his hand in acknowledgement at his words but it's not enough. "Give me the words, Belle. Tell me you'll stay by my side," he demands.
"I won't leave your side. Stuck like glue, baby," I smile and he nods his head as he continues to watch the road. I see the tension in his body. The stiffness in his frame, the thought of being surrounded by so many people putting him on edge.
I hold his hand tightly the entire way back to Carnation. It’s my lame attempt to calm him, make him feel at ease. It doesn't help and I hate that I can’t bring him the calm that he deserves. Instead, he fidgets incessantly as we pull into our driveway, staring blankly ahead after turning the ignition off.
"Baby," I prompt and he jumps at my voice. "If you really don't want to do this, I can," I start but he cuts of my words with a shake of his head. Jumping down from the Jeep he stands against the door, waiting for me to make my way to him. Pulling me in close he covers my mouth with his own, his kiss desperate. Our shared intimacy assists in releasing a small amount of tension from his body before he stops the kiss as abruptly as he started it. Rubbing his hands along his face, he groans before tucking me into his side and walking us towards Janie's house. Using one hand to hold his over my shoulder, I wrap the other around his defined waist and I revel in the ability to touch him again, being wrapped around his body.
"WELCOME HOME," our friends and family yell in unison as we enter the backyard. Archer's body turns to stone. The loudness of his welcome party exacerbating his anxious demeanor. My waist is pinched tightly as his arm clenches around my body, the pressure so strangled that I can feel him shaking.
"Right here, baby," I whisper up to him. He breaks away from his trance, eyes da
rting down to mine as he anchors our stare and I see the will in his face as he works to calm down. Our eyes remain connected, a silent conversation shared, a non-verbal push of support helping to pacify him. Slowly turning back to our friends and family he plasters on a tight smile as he moves us towards Janie.
Regret plagues Janie's bright blue eyes, the remorse clear on her features. "Ma," Archer gives her a smile, clearly happy to see her again, the honesty in the gesture, helping to ease her concern.
Wrapping her arms tightly around his body, she looks up to place a soft kiss on his jaw. "Welcome home, baby boy."
I attempt to disentangle myself from Archer's grip to give Janie the time she deserves with her first-born son. My exit is halted by Archer's stone like grip, his eyes burning into mine with distress. As awkward as it may be for the others, I remain at his side as promised. Archer needs this and that’s all that matters, so, I settle into his grasp and he visibly relaxes. Our connection is what feels right to him, so that's what I give him, refusing to leave his side as Jake and our friends greet him with excited smiles and welcoming embraces.
We sit down almost immediately to eat, Janie having gone all out on Archer's first meal home. Archer falls into easy conversation with Jake, who updates him on what he’s been up to since Archer’s been gone; school work, gigs he's played. Like the first time he came home, Archer is 100% invested in everything Jake has to say, listening to everything with apt attention. His hand lays firmly planted on my thigh as he eats, keeping me close to his side. Every so often he looks down at me, watches me eat and waits for me to meet his eyes before planting a chaste kiss to my lips.
While seemingly at ease, I can sense he's uncomfortable with being around so many people so soon after coming home. Sharp noises grab his immediate attention, not skittish or jumpy, his movements, even when shocked are deliberate and fluid.
