You look down at the ring on your finger. Tommy. The one word you could think of while looking down at the diamond that was perfectly placed on your finger was his. Tommy.

Tommy had been gone for so long. You'd lost count of the days, and had refused to check the papers to see. It had been too long, and you'd begun to lose hope.

If he didn't come home today, it meant, for sure, that he was gone. Lost at sea. Lost in the war.

Your breath was shaky, and you had already cried for too long to let the tears come again. Sighing, you run your hand through your hair.

Suddenly, a train's whistle can be heard in the distance. This makes you alert, spinning on your heel to turn the direction of the sound. Tommy.

Running despite your heels, you feel the wind in your hair as you go as quickly as possible. When you finally make your way to the station, you see men of all heights and colours greeting their loved ones and saying farewell to their fellow soldiers.

You stand on your tiptoes, scanning the crowd for the blackish brown messy locks that your hands had gotten used to running through. No where. You couldn't see him anywhere.

Soon enough, the train was pulling out of the station, and you still hadn't seen your beloved Tommy.

You begin to cry.

Fearing the worst, you turn around and begin to walk home, wanting to not see your friends hug their boyfriends in front of your face.

"Don't cry, love." Someone says from behind you. The voice makes you stop in an instant, turning around, hesitant.

But it was him. His hair had gotten longer, his biceps bigger, a bit taller, perhaps. But he had the same bright eyes, and the same beautiful smile. It was your Tommy.

Before you know it, your arms are wrapped around his neck, his face pressed into your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. "I love you, I love you, I love you." You say as you kiss him all over his face. Tommy chuckles, bringing a smile to both of your faces.

"I love you too, Y/N." He says, kissing you more passionately.

His hands find their way to your waist, and he refuses to move them, as if afraid he'd wake up from this wonderful dream by simply blinking. But little did the boy know that you never would leave his side ever again.