"hello, beautiful," charles would grin as soon as he saw you. the war had been brutal and bloody— no doubt he was a different man than he had been prior to his deployment. he could still picture the dying around him, smell the stench of death and gunpowder in the air, hear the distant sounds of gunfire and explosives.

but they had won and you were here looking like a beacon in the sea of people; an absolute ray of sunshine, an anchor to help him keep all ten toes on the ground. there had been no hesitation, arms wrapping around you and giving you a twirl. "hey, pretty girl!" he chirped, pulling back just enough to soak up the sight of you. last you had seen each other, neither knew if he'd return home alive or in a box.

it must've been just as overwhelming for you as it was him, because now he was gingerly wiping your tears away with the calloused pads of his thumbs, lips trailing from the crown of your head, to your cheek— then, to your lips. "i've got you," he smiled, sliding his arms around your form and practically crushing you against his uniform, "and i ain't leaving you, sweetheart. not ever again."

the second world war was over thanks to a bomb hardly contained by the very humanity who had created it. the 40's had only just begun; this was a new era. an era made for peace, charlie hoped, because now that he was back he had plans to buy you a ring, a house and a wedding. maybe, in time, a couple sticky-handed little ones running around causing absolute mayhem.