THOMAS

February 27, 1899

The last time I wrote in here, I did not have the proper words to describe what I had experienced, but now I have had time to fully process my thoughts.

For the first time I have been with someone, truly been with him in heart and spirit. And nothing in the world has ever felt so right.

I had invited Sav to come spend time with me at my flat. I had posed the idea innocently enough, just a quiet night inside, sipping tea by a lit fire and enjoying each other’s company, but I had already decided that I would make my boldest move yet in the chess game that Sav and I have been playing.

Over these past weeks, my bravery has been increasing. I have been standing up for myself with Neville, breaking away from my parents’ hold, hell, I even kissed Sav! And I was ready for more. I figured the kiss would be enough to let Sav know how I felt, to show him how I wanted him. Secretly I had been hoping that I would then move forward with shows of more intense affection and devotion.

When he did not immediately try to sweep me off my feet, I was worried that maybe that was more than he actually wanted. Perhaps I was just a flirtation. Or perhaps he was holding back out of respect for me.

No matter the case, I needed to try something.

The other night, while we were reclining peacefully with our tea, I made my way back to my bedchamber, a room he had not been let into before.

I slowly began to disrobe, but my anxiety caused me to fumble with the buttons on my shirt, and something I do daily suddenly became an insurmountable task. I was grateful he was not with me to see how clumsily I was preparing to seduce him.

The longer I was back in my bedchamber, the more foolish I began to feel. Should I call out to him? He did not know what I was doing or where I was. If he did venture to find me, what would he do? How would he react? Would he laugh? Turn away? Or would he take me in the way I had been secretly wishing he would?

This worry continued until finally, footsteps sounded along the wooden floor. There was no turning back now. The door to my bedchamber creaked as he pushed it open wider and stared at me with his big brown eyes.

He crossed over to me and finished removing my clothes before telling me that I was beautiful. It was then that I realized I’d never heard anyone use that word when describing me. Amelia and my parents’ friends had called me handsome. But never beautiful. I could almost feel the flow of my blood as it rushed to my cheeks in a flush. I kissed him, firm and passionate as I had previously, and before I could get in my own way with thoughts of worry or if I would be good enough, I reached for the first closed button on his shirt and worked my way down.

This whole time I had thought that what I wanted was for Sav to sweep my off my feet. The other night I realized I wanted to be the one to sweep him off his.

I will not lie on this page and say that the entire act was magic and bliss. Discomfort and pain were mixed in with the pleasure, and there were many moments when I did not know what to do with my hands or my hips—this was all new territory for me, after all. But Sav was with me the entire time, asking if I was in pain or frightened. His hand in mine erased any fear. I’ve never felt so safe.

I am so glad that it was Sav and not Amelia or another girl who I would pretend to love in my bed that night. Every movement, every word whispered, every feeling, it was all real and right. No matter what the world may think of it.