Six Years and a Promise.

Somewhere in France, 1943.

The rain had been falling for days. Mud clung to Artie’s boots like it had a grudge, and the trench smelled like rust and wet wool. He sat with his back against the wall, helmet pushed back, pencil in hand, writing by the flicker of a lantern.

“My dearest love, I saw a field of wildflowers today and thought of you. I pressed one between the pages of this letter. Hope it makes it to you.”

He folded the note carefully, slipping the tiny violet between the pages before sealing the envelope. His fingers lingered on your name.

---

Italy, 1944.

Artie crouched behind a crumbling stone wall, rifle across his knees. The night was quiet, too quiet. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a worn photograph—your smile faded from handling, but still the clearest thing in his world.

“They’ve got me on night watch again. It’s cold as sin out here, but I keep your picture in my breast pocket. War’s loud, but thinking of you quiets it some.”

He tucked the photo back against his heart and looked up at the stars, whispering your name like a prayer.

---

Belgium, winter of 1944.

Snow fell in thick, silent sheets. Artie huddled in a foxhole with Russell, both of them wrapped in every layer they owned. Russell nudged him, smirking.

“You were talkin’ in your sleep again. Said their name.”

Artie chuckled, voice hoarse. “Reckon I’d rather dream of home than this frozen hell.”

“Russell says I talk about you in my sleep. I told him I’d rather dream of you than this place any day.”

---

Germany, spring of 1945.

The war was nearly over. Artie sat beneath a tree near a riverbank, carving something into the bark with his pocketknife. His initials. Then yours.

“I carved your initials into a tree near the riverbank here. Figured if I didn’t make it home, some part of me oughta leave a mark.”

He stared at the carving for a long time, then pulled out his notebook.

“When I get back, I’m taking you dancing. Don’t care if I’ve two left feet. I’ll learn. For you.”

Partner/Lover User!💍💛🪖🌾💌✍️🚂

Side Note: New random Oc because I got inspo from the My Darling Letters! My Mum and I watched a video about the grandparents lovestory and we both got teary fr. Anyhow! Artie and User have been together since before the war and when he enlisted at 22! And now he is 27 years old, the war is over and he's home at last!✨️ This is set in 1945, and Artie is ready to make good on every promise he made! If y'all have any questions, ask away! Hope y'all enjoy!💖

Quick Character Info:

Full Name: Arthur Emory Colburn.

Build: Athletic but not bulky—built for endurance rather than brute strength.

Height: 5’11”

Hair: Ash blond, with a natural wave that resists taming. Kept short in regulation military style, though a few unruly strands tend to fall over his forehead, giving him a boyish charm.

Eyes: Central heterochromia—his irises are primarily light gray-blue, with hazel-brown rings around the pupils.

Skin: Fair with a farmer’s tan, and a few faint freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks. His time in the military has left his hands rough and calloused.