Intertwine

42 - I Couldn't Even Beg

They sat down on it, side by side, looking out onto the water.

After a moment Hazel quietly asked what had been on her mind. "Do you think Steven will like me?"

"Like you?" He took her hands in his once more. "Doll, Steve's going to love you."

She blushed, her long hair draped over her shoulder. "I hope so. I don't always make the best impressions."

"Maybe you're a little feisty, so what?" He laughed. "I think Steve's into bossy women anyway."

"At least he's not a brunette, he's got no chance of stealing me." She shook her head. "You American boys."

"What's so great about English ones?" He murmured, taking his hand out of hers to pull her hair behind her ear.

"Oh don't worry Barnes, they've got nothing on you." She looked up at him, blue eyes glistening the same colour as the water.

He leant forward, almost hesitantly, "Well that's good, because I'm finding I like English girls a hell of a lot more than any others."

He placed his other hand underneath her chin, raising her face to meet his, his other hand still on her cheek. His gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth and he was worried that she would hear his heart rate quicken. She was wondering the same thing.

Very gently he kissed her, lips barely brushing hers. As he went to move back she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him to her, kissing him again, as though she knew she wouldn't have another chance to.

As they parted her face was flushed, but he was confident, looking her in the eye. "They're sending me out again tomorrow."

She stopped, stunned, her face going from a glowing pink to a deathly pale. "I thought it was next week?" She whispered, horrified. she clutched his shirt more tightly, as though afraid to let go, knuckles turning white from her grasp.

James shook his head sadly. "They've moved it up. We've got the Wehrmacht close to Austria, but they're pushing back. We're going to Azzano. Jones says it'll be an easy fight, but I'm not so sure."

"Gabriel Jones doesn't have a girl he made promises to." Hazel's voice was still a whisper, the tightness of her throat now audible.

Gently James prized her fingers away from his shirt. "I know Doll. But I've come back before."

"You don't understand James, every time you leave I wait here, terrified you won't come back. I watch the men file in and every time there's less of you. Every time..." She trailed off, turning to look at the calmness of the lake, her mind working trying to compartmentalise the panic that was rising within her. "Run away with me." She looked back at him. "I can work with the shop still, we can find a place in Italy, an apartment in a small town. Everywhere needs rebuilding, you can find work. We can run away, together."

"Hazel." He said quietly, a thumb running across her face to wipe away the single tear that had fallen. "You know I can't do that."

"Then why did you kiss me?" She asked him frantically, trying to find some semblance of sense in the chaos she was faced with.

"Because I didn't know if I'd get another chance. Because I've wanted to do it since I saw you swearing in Italian at those potatoes." He licked his lips, anxious at how she would take his next words. "Because if we both survive this, I'm going to take you home to America and I'm going to marry you."

"James I-"

"I know you don't like the idea of marriage, but I'm going to go crazy if I don't. I'm going to take you to every dancehall in the city and dance with you all night. And we will find an apartment together just like you said, in Brooklyn." He looked at her expectantly.

"Well then," She blinked her tears away and pulled him closer to her, "what are you waiting for, kiss me again you big idiot."

Aditi Savant woke with a start, the image of the couple by the lake locked in a kiss still in her eyes. She rubbed her face, trying to remove the sleep from it. What decade was it this time? The 1940s?

She looked out of her window. It was still dark. She checked her alarm clock. Three in the morning. She groaned and rolled over in her bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. She'd been dreaming about the same girl for six weeks now, almost every time a different name attached to her, sometimes no name at all. Every time it was a different time period.

She knew her powers allowed her to feel other people's emotions and memories, and she often dreamed about their experiences. But it was never the same person twice. What was the universe trying to tell her? She wasn't sure but it was bothering her.

Just as she began to doze off, she heard a footstep outside of her room. She froze, very much awake now. Was she still dreaming? She opened her eyes. Damn. She hasn't realised it before but she was locked in dream state again, seeing and understanding everything from a third perspective. It was annoying but it could be useful. She closed her eyes, rising up out of her bedroom and moving into the hallway. It was pitch black, but she felt something. Concentration, waiting, patience. A collective emotion, like when an audience was waiting for an actor to come onto stage.

I gasped, coming out of the third perspective, rolling out of bed with a thud. Concentration? What? I heard a click outside, in the same place as the footstep had been.

I scrambled up as quietly as I could, and opened my drawer, searching quietly for a pepper spray. My fingers grasped the cylinder at the same time as the door opened. I turned and sprayed.

The man who had entered my room stumbled backwards, rubbing at his eyes frantically. I moved back against my closet as more men filed in. They were so silent that if it hadn't been a cloudless night and the moon hadn't been shining through my window I wouldn't have known they were there.

I raised my hands. "Don't make me do this. Please." I whispered.

As a group, they raised their weapons. I gripped my fists, choking them. They fell to the ground in a heep, all gasping for breath. Tears streamed from my eyes as I felt their collective fear, their panic, their horror.

"Now now Aditi." A voice said from beside me.

I jumped in shock, losing my grip on the windpipes of the group of men. Another man was standing beside me. He was wearing a suit, a pin emblazoned with an A on his lapel, his grey hair neatly cropped against his scalp. He was calm. No fear. No panic. No horror. He'd come knowing exactly what I could do.

"Thank you." He whispered, raising a small device in his hands. "I truly am sorry Aditi." He pressed the button on the top of the device.

If felt as though my brain was melting. I fell backwards onto my bed, completely paralysed apart from my eyes, which were darting around the room. I tried to speak, to yell out, even though I knew my parents weren't home. They were out working tonight, as they did every night. My mouth wouldn't open. I couldn't even moan in fear. I couldn't make a sound. I couldn't even beg.

"Take her." The man said. I didn't even see him leave, he was so quick. Just a blur. But I felt something as he went, like the scent of perfume as someone walks past you on the street. Triumph.