SEND 😴 TO CATCH MY MUSE ASLEEP IN YOUR MUSES BED
Written for @ oysterrmajor
Anna had kept a nearly constant vigil for the Major since his violent abduction from Whitehall. His absence made the once warm home feel like a spot in hostile territories, for in truth it was such for a rebel spy. Especially when Magistrate Woodhull and Mary both hated her.
The brunette found refuge in his quaint and quieted room, among his familiarities and belongings. Anna knew she did not have permission to be there, but she refused to allow that thought alone to scare her away. No, she instead paced around the room. Each time she crossed over to the window she gave a longing glance out. Where is he now? Is he safe? Or even alive? The brunette would offer up a prayer as she peered up at the expansive sky. Dear God, just let him come home alive. He doesn't deserve to be hurt or to die.
The brunette was wracked with a deep sense of guilt. Her own side had done this. Oh how highly she thought of the rebels and their cause... and yet, the barbaric behavior of the intruders made her nearly question her alliances. How could she condone such brutish behavior? She couldn't, at least towards Major Hewlett. Against Captain Simcoe, however it might have been completely justified.
Anna watched as dawn faded into dusk and gradually slipped further into the shadowy cape of night. When the brunette realized that it could be a truly eternal wait, she gingerly clasped his wig in her hands and his cloak. Then she decisively moved to sit on the edge of his bed.
His wig and cloak still smelled of his pleasant masculine musk and subtle hints of grass, gun-powder, and horse. Anna took extra care with these items for she cherished them as much as she did Edmund. She committed each hair of his wig and every inch of his cloak to memory, both by running her gentle but calloused fingers over them and by absorbing their sent.
Time seemed to seep by ever so slowly, the snail like pace moved about as fast as molasses down the rough bark of a tree. Her maple-syrup hues were soon grew reddened and weary. Blinking back tears of exhaustion Anna struggled to remain awake and alert.
The bed was comfortable, far more comfortable than she would have ever imagined it to be, and it seemed to welcome her. Hesitantly Anna drooped backwards like a wilting flower, laying down with his cloak draped over slender figure. His wig came to rest upon her chest, which slowly lifted and lowered with every inhale and exhale her exhausted frame took. I'll only close my eyes for a moment..... she told herself. However, a deep slumber closed in and devoured her.
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A Collection of Turn: Washington's Spies Drabbles
FanfictionA collection of starters and drabbles I made for my Anna Strong & Samuel Tallmadge muses on Tumblr. This collection may involve many different pairings and such.
