I Promise

II

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: some smut, angst

The first month without Alex I forced myself to learn new hobbies. I picked up sewing and tried my hand at painting; anything to keep my mind off of him. I hoped he would write to me. I waited for the postman every day and every day he'd shake his head at me with a sorrowful expression. Thomas would send the occasional update to the family, but he and Alex were separated shortly after arriving and he

hadn't seen him since.

I knew that Alex was only trying to protect me. He wanted the best for me and I loved him for that, but I just wished he would send something, anything that would let me know that he was alright.

*

The sun was out, the birds were singing, it was a beautiful day. A perfect day for a picnic. A plethora of finger foods were scattered across the thick, quilt blanket, allowing us to graze idly. I sat up with my right leg crossed over the left as Alex's head rested in my lap. His long fingers were laced between mine, mindlessly stroking his thumb against my skin. We sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying one another's company and gazing out at the beautiful scenery.

Eventually, Alex's hand disappeared from mine and he turned onto his side, placing his hand on my thigh just below the hem of my skirt. Warmth spread across my body as his fingers, slowly but surely, crept beneath the fabric. He sat up, causing me to look down at him, our eyes meeting. He pushed himself up onto his knees and leaned forward, slotting his supple lips between mine ever so passionately. I rested my hands on the sides of his neck, pulling him towards me as I began to lay back against the quilt. He wedged his thigh between my own and I could feel the prominent bulge in his trousers resting against me.

"Can I touch you?" He rasped against my lips and I nodded quickly, almost begging him to. His hand traced down my side slowly before reaching the hem of my skirt and bunching the fabric up around my waist. My breathing was heavy and uneven as his fingers slithered beneath the fabric of my knickers, finding my clit easily. We both gasped at the contact, his eyes trained to mine vehemently.

"Fuck, y'so wet..." He whispered as his fingers began to work against my clit. It was the simplest of movements and I was no stranger to the feeling, but something about the pleasure being caused by Alex made the pleasure so much better.

Soon, he was thrusting into me at an agonizing pace, my head was thrown back in pleasure as he lazily pressed his lips against my throat. Hot white ecstasy ran through our veins, a flicker of pleasure burning in the pit of my stomach. I looked into his eyes, knowing that it would send me over, but the lust that once filled them had been replaced with panic and fear. The pleasure once burning in my core engulfed my body, but instead of feeling that pleasure, I felt a searing pain throughout my entire being. I squeezed my eyes shut as my body grew unbearably hot, and when I opened them again, I was surrounded by fire, with Alex nowhere to be found. I was blinded by scorching flames, choking out lungfuls of smoke and all I could hear was Alex's voice screaming for me-- telling me to run, to get away from the chaos, to leave him to die. I couldn't leave him; I wouldn't. I screamed out for him again, the flames lapping at my skin wildly, but he was gone, disappeared into the cloud of smoke, dust, and fire.

I jolted up in bed, a layer of sweat covering my skin as I heaved. I pressed my palm to my chest to calm myself down, peeling the heavy duvet from my body and sliding from beneath it. My bare feet landed on the hardwood floor and I shuddered at the contrast of my warm skin hitting the cold floor. Rubbing my palms over my sweaty face, I walked to my vanity to look at myself. My hair was plastered to my forehead from the sweat and my cheeks were flushed red, fists clenching at my sides. I was a mess.