CHAPTER SONG: "Come What May" by Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor (from the soundtrack of the film 'Moulin Rouge'). Lyrics by Rudy Amado Perez, Kevin M Gilbert and David Francis Baerwald*
TRIGGER WARNING: Depiction of stalking and somnophilia (being sexually attracted to someone sleeping, comatose or unconscious)
April 5th, 2020
London, England
Erik Baumer followed his lovely pursuit discreetly as she walked through the Imperial War Museum. Being careful to remain far enough behind her as to not cause suspicion, he couldn't help but bitterly admire her hunger for knowledge, but it didn't overcome his desire to quench that fire residing within her. The woman's attention would rather be on the printed words of a damned book and not on him.
Deep inside the recesses of his mind, he knew it was one of the things about Emmanuelle Hunterson that drew him to her despite her relatively unremarkable appearance at first glance. She never made an embarrassment of herself to get his attention like other women had done to the point where he never remembered their faces or even hair color. Her tied back brunette tresses and glasses that framed her green eyes that gleamed with stubbornness only furthered his wanting to gain her favor.
It was always the ones that played hardest to get that made the sweetest prey...
At first, her repeated refusals to go out to dinner with him or accompany him to an exclusive family gala were charming in a beguiling way, but he began to tire of her games as the months went on. At last, he found himself having to hunt her down every evening as the library closed and she would try to evade being cornered by him...
But he always prided himself in being the best in obtaining what he wanted... He looked up her employment application and found her address and phone number. She evaded his constant calls on her days off work and he figured she was smart enough to figure out it was him constantly blowing up her phone battery with calling her and his number was eventually blocked until he changed it. Emmy had also removed herself from what little social media she had until he finally had no choice but to take desperate measures...
Erik stopped himself from delving too deeply into his darkened thoughts of possessiveness before he lost sight of her walking into the gift shop. Pulling his jacket hood over his head, he watched her as closely as possible while remaining by the shop window but still aiming to be inconspicuous.
He was low key surprised at how none of the passerby noticed him following the girl but what else did he expect with everyone being occupied with their mobile phones.
Erik kept surveillance on his little Emmy, his future wife, look around the shop and read through a WWI history book, so engaged she was that she accidentally bumped into some other customers and received some glares in her direction.
How tempted he was to barge in there and drag her to the nearest unoccupied restroom and hold her against the wall and mark every inch of her body as his property.
She belonged to him and she still refused to acknowledge such an irreversible fact. How he was tiring fast of her rejecting him and humiliating him, taking a blow at his masculinity in the process.
Whether she accepted it or not Emmanuelle was HIS, regardless if she was willing to be or not!
She was now at the checkout counter, locking eyes with the girl assisting with her purchase of what seemed to be a ring of a simple decoration. He peeked around the corner of the store window as he kept out of their sight as the announcement of the museum closing soon emanated through the air from the overhead speaker.
His little modest Emmy was never one to wear much jewelry, which still only served to puzzle him more when she bought the trinket and tried it on her small finger for it to fit perfectly as thought it were manufactured specifically for her hand.
After her payment was completed, she smiled her pretty grin in politeness and mouthed her thanks. She displayed such gratitude in her silence and it thrilled him to make such an observation. It reminded him of when she would lie underneath him as he consumed her night after night like an addict succumbing to the sweetest narcotic, not bothering to resist him knowing he could just hold her down and take everything she had.
Erik rounded further around the corner as she exited the store, her purchase securely in her hands, oblivious to his stalking presence just meters away from her. He still had a few moments before the store closed for the night. He went to the store door and opened it to enter the premises. Immediately he felt the cashier girl's eyes quietly watching him as he removed his hood.
"We're about to close in a few moments, sir. Is there something I can help you find?" The girl at the counter lightly reprimanded him for coming into the store so late, but her soft French accented tone concealed her irritation.
Erik looked at the girl, glancing at her employee tag that read "Lauri"...
"No thank you, miss. I'm just looking for something to give my fiancée when I go back to America." He looked down at the glass cabinet beneath the counter and noticed something both chilling and intriguing.
A framed black and white picture of a dark haired woman in an Edwardian wedding dress and veil sat protected by the glass barrier as he leaned down for a better glance at the mystery woman's face.
Despite the lack of pronounced color, the bride's features were unmistakable down to the facial structure of her cheeks and the smaller shape of her eyes and nose.
The unnamed woman resembled an uncanny resemblance to his own sweet American Emmy, only the picture was dated on Christmas Eve of 1918.
Not just a resemblance, but she looked exactly like her...
And he saw the ring on her finger that Emmy had purchased before departing from the store. What in the hell was she playing at?
Had she found another man in the days they had been a whole ocean apart? Why was she buying a ring if not to present her intentions for another man?
He should have known better than to allow her to go on this trip. How she had some explaining to do when she returned... And he'd make sure she would return to him...
Drawing in a breath of anger, he looked up at Lauri and noticed the cautious gaze in her eyes. Trying to hide his burgeoning rage with a charming smile, he kept his voice soft with controlled patience as he spoke.
"Is this picture available to buy? This woman looks like someone my lovely one might know."
Erik knew she was scheduled to come back home tomorrow and he had a late night flight to catch himself back to Washington DC if he were to arrive back before her.
Soon she would realize the extent he would go to have her and ensure no man would lay a finger on her or even look in her direction.
Unlike the previous nights while he was in London these last few days, he didn't have time to follow her to her hotel and he'd reached his limit of occasions bribing security there to allow him up to her room and sneak in while she was sleeping.
He never did anything sinister, he only watched quietly for an hour or two in the dead of night, relishing in her unmoving vulnerability and unawareness of his presence, watching her submerged in the depths of slumber. How he had been ever tempted each night to grace her sweet mouth with a kiss and feel the air of her breathing against his lips as he would lean over her bed and feel the hatred for her and insatiable lust to possess all of her. After their heatedly charged trysts back in the States, she would never actually sleep around him, only immediately push away and demand he allow her to go home alone.
Like a classic movie monster from a silent horror film, he loomed over her like a shadowed specter, his own breaths heavy with the potency of alcohol puffing across her angelic face like an odorous cigarette cloud, his nose barely brushing hers. He considered it a blessing that she remained asleep, even though he kept the chloroform rag in his pocket should his beautiful dreamer awaken during his nocturnal visits.
Erik found himself reaching out toward her for one touch before leaving the room. His fingers would stroke a few strands of her soft brown hair on the pillowcase or even dare to lay a hand on her bosom, tantalized by the rise and fall of her breasts as she continued sleeping and envying her strong heartbeat, the arousing visual of her chest teased by her torn t-shirt...
The predator ever dormant within Erik was certain he preferred to see her inert and unconscious, completely at his mercy than with her eyes open and her body so full of life and fire. And her voice spitting the poison of venom with each word directed at him.
He would see to it once they married that all of his desires would be fulfilled. He would take everything from Emmy; her speech, her freedom and her sense of identity. He would take it all and only then would she fully submit to him...
Erik would see her dead and buried before leaving her in the arms of another man...
.
.
April 23rd, 1917
When Emmanuelle woke up the following morning, she found herself back in her bed in the train compartment after falling asleep in her love's arms. A fresh pillow had been laid beneath her head... most likely placed there by her Will, ever the caring gentleman he was to make sure she didn't sleep all night on a sweat soaked pillowcase.
After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she saw that her gallant lance corporal was absent from the room, most likely he had left after placing her back in bed and went across to his own room. She found herself flattered that he'd taken such measures to make her comfortable by arranging them passage in separate sleeping cabins, more for her own benefit than his.
Emmy wouldn't have minded if they had a room together, and William didn't want to be kept apart from her after they'd just reunited, but he aimed to further protect her status as an unwed woman traveling with her battle-worn lover. He knew how fragile her self esteem was and words could especially hurt somebody with her emotional fragility after everything she had endured.
After Emmy washed her face with cold water, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were less visible and her lips were a dark pink, the rosy blush pronounced in her full pale cheeks and her brunette tresses framed her head and shoulders like a curtain closing around a theater stage.
She managed to soak her hair in the water basin and wound it in a single braid so it wouldn't get in her eyes while she was dressing. Emmy rummaged through her suitcase and found a dark blue skirt and small heeled black boots for her feet. To her relief, found the pain in her calf had significantly subsided as she placed the petticoat and the skirt around her waist before pulling her cotton stockings around her legs up to her knees. And the less said about the itchy undergarments she had to wear, the better. She would have to get accustomed with the clothing options available to her.
Now that she was adventuring further in the public, she had to look the part of a young woman who lived all her life in post Edwardian society.
When she was fully dressed, Emmy went to check her reflection one more time in the mirror to see if she looked presentable enough the leave the room. Her blue plaid checkered blouse complimented her figure and Will's St Christopher still hung around her neck and a feeling of pride burst through her entire body, making her feel warm and confident in his love for her.
She still couldn't believe she was about to meet his sister and nieces. A ton of questions built up in her mind as she pinned her braid to the back of her head where it would stay in place in a tightened coil. Emmy finally felt satisfied with her appearance and carefully walked to the door, keeping in mind not to put too much weight on her injured leg.
Opening the door, she walked through the threshold and went across the short width of the train car hallway to William's room, knowing he was mere feet apart from her even though they slept in separate rooms. She felt touched how he aimed to protect her honor even though she didn't have much to begin with since they met, at least not in regards to her virginity.
Yet, he loved her all the same in spite of it...
Inhaling a shaky breath, Emmy raised her hand and knocked on the smooth wooden door with her small knuckles. She heard some shuffling from the other side of the door as a uniformed attendant pushed a luggage cart past her through the narrow passageway. Emmy leaned up against the door to give him more space to get through and as they went past, the door opened and she was suddenly pulled into the arms of her dashing soldier Will Schofield.
"Emmy, watch out." Will spoke to her gently as the door closed again behind them. She was lifted a few inches off the ground by his strong hands holding her waist as he maneuvered her safely into the room. When she was back down on the ground, Emmanuelle noticed something different as she balanced herself against his chest.
He looked down at her with concern and some anxiety in his handsome face, as though he was ashamed. Emmy placed her hand on his cheek as his sharp azure eyes softened with a glint of nervous disposition. As she leaned against his torso, Emmy noticed that she no longer felt the rough and thick fabric of his brown uniform or threaded wool of his blue tunic underneath.
He was bare-chested... and Emmy felt herself flush a hot-blooded blush of crimson at the realization that she had never seen Will sans clothing on his upper body. Back in the present, seeing a man without his shirt was as common as seeing a tree in the forest, predictable and boring. Emmy had felt hardly anything but contempt and disgust towards the men she knew back in 2020...
William froze in his spot as he held Emmy to her position standing on the wood paneled floor, feeling exposed and vulnerable, his frenzied mind waiting for her to shrivel away in repugnance as though he were completely naked in front of this beautiful woman he loved. His breaths trembled as he inhaled and exhaled, his throat dry with words stuck on his tongue as he awaited her reaction.
And she didn't shrink away from the sight of his body...
Emmy's own breaths hitched as her eyes focused on his pale yet solid chest, rippled with lean muscle, which she knew was evident the amount of times he had carried her in his equally toned arms with such ease and frequency. No doubt from his previous occupation before the war as a carpentry architect and the rigorous army training after he enlisted had contributed to his upper body strength.
Her gentle fingers stroked along the valley of his sinewy abdomen, feeling the pulsing vibration of his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin as she petted the thin light hairs sprinkled down the centerline of his ribcage and trailed down to his naval.
The woman's study of her love went from Will's shirtless state to the shallow and faded scars of various sizes littered across numerous areas on his chest. Her fingertips ran along each one and she looked up to meet his gaze as he remained silent. His blue eyes were filled with tears that formed into tiny rivers along his cheekbones.
"Emmy...I..." He choked out before the remainder of the sentence caught in his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as shame and fear clouded his regal features.
How could this lovely creature from another era a hundred years ahead of his own lifetime ever want to see let alone touch his war wounds forever etched on his weary flesh? She deserved a flawless, polished knight who didn't flinch away at the most mundane noises that reminded him of planes or rifles...
"Shh..." Emmanuelle shushed him tenderly, her voice quiet and dripping with saintly patience that she hadn't even known she possessed. "It's okay, Will. You don't ever have to be afraid of showing yourself to me."
"But... Emmanuelle...how could you not be frightened or sickened by this?" William choked out his words to where he barely recognized his own voice. His uninjured hand gently caressed the side of her neck, his thumb running along her jaw-line and down to her chin, his other hand removing one of hers from his chest to hold it within his grasp. His fingers grazed her bracelet strung with Tom Blake's rings...
"I could never feel that way towards you, Will. Your scars, physical or mental, will never drive me away, like what you told me about my past." She looked down at the floor as she remembered what she needed to tell him, but this moment was about her lance corporal, not herself. "You're still the selfless, caring and kind man who carried me out of that farmhouse and never let me go since then. And I've always loved you since those moments after I woke up and you bandaged my foot."
William released a heavy sob of disbelief and gratitude at her words. She pulled her hand away from his bare chest and wiped away the tears from his reddened cheek. Her own eyes filled up with the shine of sadness at the turmoil her soldier was experiencing. Standing up on her tiptoes despite the protesting pain in her leg, she pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss of reassurance.
The taller man watched as this petite woman, a whole head shorter in height than he, leaned down back to his torso and graced each scar with an adoring kiss wherever she could see one.
Dear God...she was so good... and so gracious in a world that had precious little of those virtues left and she had also internalized her own reasons to be righteously bitter...
When she finished her kissing of his chest, she held his dog tag that hung around his neck and also pressed her lips to the cold metal of the words that bore his army identity and serial number...
"Emmanuelle..." He sighed her name in a whisper as he looked down into her evergreen eyes filled with nothing but pure compassion and devotion for him. "If it was ever possible I couldn't love you more in this moment than I did when I held you last night... But that's been proven every day since I found you."
"I'm glad I can surprise you, Will." She found herself smiling up at him as he wiped away his remaining tears from his face. "You'll always be the beautiful man I fell in love with."
William sighed in bliss as he took her hand that held his army tag and pressed her soft palm to his cheek, his eyes closed. Emmy took notice of his tired demeanor.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" She asked as she led him to sit on the bed where his luggage sat on the edge.
"After you fell asleep, I just held you and placed you back in bed after a few minutes. I wanted you to be comfortable; I almost brought you in here instead. But I just stayed on the floor by your bed until around when the sun came up in case you had another nightmare." Will reached up to stroke back a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been awake for most of the night."
"I didn't mean to keep you awake, Will. Why don't you lie down and try to sleep awhile? I'll stay with you if you want." She reached over and grabbed up his brown parade hat that hung off the bedpost and placed it on her own head.
William found himself smiling at her actions and that warmth of love he felt for her enflamed his pounding heart. How quickly she could pull him back from the brink of his internal misery and grief...
"Are you giving me an order, Miss Hunterson?" Will chuckled despite a yawn breaking through his jest toward her. "You wouldn't dare place me in such a compromising position."
"Yes, I am, Corporal Schofield." She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and slowly pushed him down so that he was lying on the bed, his head on the pillow. "And I'm daring."
Emmy hovered over him and Will was enchanted at the sight of her above him like an angel sent to guard him. His hand reflexively reached up toward her face and his thumb traced along both her lips that had just peppered his scarred body with kisses, the most soothing touch he had ever felt in years...
"I haven't told you yet how stunning you look this morning, my love." His voice lowered into a whisper as his eyes closed. "You always look wonderful, my Emmy."
"No more talking, Will Schofield. That's an order." She pressed her index finger to his lips to silence him, his eyes remaining closed. "Just sleep for a bit and I'll stay awhile and we'll get lunch later."
Emmy took his raised hand into hers and placed a soft kiss on his ever gentle fingers.
Will only murmured his agreement to her, his voice groggy with exhaustion as he didn't even say any coherent words. Emmy ran her fingers through his wavy brown hair atop his head before placing a kiss on his forehead and then his own lips. Her soldier remained perfectly still as she removed his parade hat from her head and placed herself to lay against his sculpted chest, her ear against his pectoral as he breathed in and out, his comforting heartbeat served as her inspiration to sing for him now...
Her lullaby for him to soothe him into dreams of whatever made him happy... Maybe he would dream of her... Emmy whispered lyrics from one of her favorite songs from her own time, wishing she could play it for him on her phone as she wouldn't do it justice.
And she imagined what Will would dream about if it centered around her... She thought about the photo of her in a wedding dress... She hoped he would dream about a future with her.
Finding her again after the war ended...
Courting her with all the intimacy to grow closer with each passing day...
Making love to her with all the fire in his heart...
Marrying her and living out the rest of his days free of guilt and disgrace...
Emmy closed her eyes, whispered lyrics floating from her tongue as she serenaded her hero, every verse signifying a declaration of her love for Corp. William Schofield of the 8th Devonshire Regiment, 26 years of age and resident of Surrey, England.
"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you
Come what may...
I will love you
Until my dying day"*