SUMMARY- It's 1917, and when Lucas leaves fiance Brooke for duties in the war, unknowingly pregnant, she is faced with raising their child alone. Lonely, reassurance and unexpected help for Brooke comes in the form of Lucas' injured brother Nathan, and comfort for Lucas is sought in beautiful young missionary nurse Haley James. BL promise!
Author- Emily-Grace Mendes (Brookebynaure)
Disclaimer- I don't own the characters, or One Tree Hill or the title because I've stolen it from Matt Costa's song, and I don't own the war either.
A/N- Okay guys, so this is the first attempt I've ever made at writing a story with a historical background, so to do it justice, I've been researching things about the war so that I have an idea of what I'm talking about. I hope the fact that this story is set during the First World war (It was 1917 when the Americans joined) doesn't put you off reading it. Here's the prologue, and depending on whether or not you're enjoying it, I'll continue :) Enjoy!
These Arms
Prologue
"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer."-Ralph Waldo Emerson
He kisses her on the station platform-not a kiss goodbye (because Brooke Davis has one hell of a ring on her left hand, and she refuses this to be a goodbye) but a lingering kiss, one that if they were alone right now, would almost definitely turn into something more.
The leaves of the trees are still a brilliant green, allowing flecks of sunlight to filter through onto the concrete platform, a bright blue sky above them indicating another hot Summer's day.
Her long brunette hair is pinned delicately into a bun, a few tentative wisps framing her face as he pulls back to look at her, knee-length dress blowing around her legs in the soft breeze. Red lipstick is smudged a little across her skin near her lips, and Lucas brushes it off with his thumb, young skin already tough from the days he's spend as a mechanic in his Uncle's garage.
"You'd better bring me something home." She tells him, as demanding as ever. War time hasn't stopped Brooke Davis' demands, and Lucas loves that about her. They don't bother to take note of anyone else around them-they have but five minutes and they refuse to waste it on noting their surroundings.
The fact that he might regret it later if she doesn't, doesn't even cross Lucas' mind. Another kiss on his wanting lips is enough to hold his concentration of only her as her hands reach around his back, finger tips clenching his uniform as she breathes in his scent.
She's beautiful, Lucas forces himself to say over and over, because he doesn't want to let himself forget just how she looks. Her skin is porcelain, untainted by the sunlight which she shields from herself by wearing a white bonnet tied with string around the neck. Her hands are always soft: moisturised with fresh oils that she saves her wages to buy, resorting to butter sometimes when there isn't enough money to fritter away on such unnecessary items.
They're totally different from one another-not just in looks, (she's pale and interesting, with dark shiny hair and almost green eyes. He's tanned and blonde-haired, with blue pools for eyes which she always tells him are her favourite.) but personalities and backgrounds too. She's from a wealthy family, residing in a large newly-built house with a front porch and windows with shutters. Her father owns a business on the West Coast, California, with huge potential to make a killing once the war is over. He's from a more humble background: his Mother working hard in a small café downtown, and his Uncle who lives with them owning a small garage. Their house is small, but comfortable enough for the three of them with a large fireplace in the living room which churns out heat in the Winter.
Lucas calls her his 'cheery', playing on the fact that she's always happy, and always smiling. Brooke calls him her 'broody', poking fun at the fact that he's always thoughtful, and much into reading classic novels that she finds hard to concentrate on when listening to him reading aloud to her.
Her parents haven't met him. They're not around much, her Father's business occupying much of their time. His parents have met her. He invited her for dinner one Sunday, and they all marvelled at the perfect curls of her hair and the rosy red of her lips. His Mother Karen had admired the pretty floral pattern of her dress and the starch white of the lace petticoat underneath. He remembers Brooke smiling, telling them that sometimes her father would bring back the latest fashions from glamorous Los Angeles, yet she saves them for special occasions.
She's wearing one of her best dresses today, Lucas notes. He recalls telling her that it's one of his favourites, because the emerald green of the soft cotton matches the flecks in her eyes. He's only wearing khaki.
"I'll bring you whatever you want." Lucas smiles, a hand sneaking along her leg until she grabs it, throwing her head back to laugh at his playful nature-the thing she'd discovered within him. He knows she prides herself on being the object of his affections.
"Anything?" She questions, eyes sparkling.
"Anything."
"Then bring me back a guy that's tall with dark hair." Her mouth curves into a smile and she continues, seeing how far she can go. "He has to have muscles though, I don't want a weedy one…"
"Hey!" He squints at her, a combination of the sunlight and fake hurt.
"Just kidding." She rolls her eyes, giggling at him.
They're interrupted by the guard blowing his whistle, a piercing shrill echoing through the platform as the girls all stand on their tip toes, even in their heels to kiss their respective men goodbye.
Lucas is sure that Brooke's the only one to whisper "Go get 'em gorgeous," after she's done with her lips against his for what must be the millionth time. He loves the fact that she's never shy about her affections, or prudish.
"I love you." He calls out to her, stepping onto the train as she fights her way to the edge of the platform, tears beginning to cloud her eyes.
"I'll miss you." She chokes, plain white handkerchief at the ready to wave him goodbye.
He manages to get to the window, his head hanging out along with everyone else that is lucky enough to get a final viewing spot of their life at that moment. Brooke blows him a kiss, giggling through her tears as he sends her one back, his lips forced into the smile he knows he has to give her in order for her to believe he'll be okay. It's the smile he has to give in order for him to believe he'll be okay.
The last glimpse he catches of her, is the green blowing around her knees, the white handkerchief moving around frantically as she continues to wave, lips red as ever. He silently promises her their wedding when he returns, with whatever flowers she requests, and the after-party in the garden of her parent's home afterwards.
Yet for Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis, this is only the beginning.
Hope you enjoyed that, please review for me xxx