His Rival

An Old Flame

Hello everyone, Jess here!  

This chapter is much shorter than the last few (32.4 pages/ 11,085 words), so I was once again able to publish it ahead of schedule. I've been having to break my momentous finale season into shorter and shorter portions as I draw closer to the climax, so be sure to take breaks as needed.         

If you have any questions or comments about this chapter, let me know; I'd like to hear from you!             

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

As soon as you slid your door open, you froze in place as the view inside brought you back to a different, more innocent era of time. Your bed was covered in the same (f/c) comforter from all those years ago, every possession, utility, and nick-nack neatly placed on your furniture, just how you left it.

Each step was as slight as a feather as you neared your drawers, mouth gaping even wider with every one that hadn't been wiped bare. Even your closet was intact; your clothes were still draped in your laundry basket. The only change visible was a new parcel on your bed with a new freshly ironed Garrison uniform on the inside.

Changing into it, you couldn't help but grimace as you zipped the collar to just below your chin, already feeling the thick, constricting fabric press against your jaw and trachea. That was one aspect of life back at the Garrison that you definitely didn't miss. But at least it would keep them from discovering you new scars, both the one from the mind control and the one from Keith's blade. The less questions, the better.

As you approached the edge of your bed, you spun around a few times to take everything in, still caught in a daze. First your world had been shattered by the Galra's invasion of Earth, next your stomach had been twisted into knots by Keith's capture by the Garrison.

Then, James hadn't shown a single shred of hostility towards neither you nor Keith, despite what so many of your nightmares have depicted. In fact, he had almost been benevolent, considering how he had 'apologized' and even kissed your hand upon arrival, as revolting as that had been.

As you pondered his behavior, it wasn't long until you sprang up from your bed, crouching down to pull something out from underneath. You had checked everything except one critical item: a large, padlocked box you hadn't touched in four-well technically seven years according to the rest of the universe. Brushing a coat of dust off the dark surface, you coughed as the debris flew into the air, stepping aside towards a particular jewelry box.

After retrieving a key from a hidden compartment on the bottom of a drawer, you took a deep breath before descending to the floor, turning the metal in place. Once upon a time, you had sworn that you'd never open this haunting vault again, knowing what memories had been locked away inside. But after all these years, you had to know, at least to prove to yourself that your first true friendship and romantic encounter wasn't just a figment of your imagination.

The mere thought of that simpler age just felt so foreign in light of the life you had grown accustomed to in space, until you lifted the lid and saw the contents inside. After gingerly removing a particular dark purple jacket with just the tips of your fingers and draping it onto the floor, the one he had given you, you did the same with a large plastic-wrapped bundle of lighter lavender tulle.

Your heart ached even more as you inspected what lay beneath, overwhelmed by the waves of emotions that each and every artifact brought back, reminded of what you had lost. The snowflake necklace from the day you confessed, all the polaroids and framed pictures that captured what you once considered to be the best days of your life, and every single heartfelt hand-written letter... Everything was still here, even after your entire reality had shifted.