Counterpoint

By Itanna

29.5K 1.7K 1.4K

Everything in the world used to be so black and white. Good was always good and bad was always bad. There was... More

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86

Chapter 87

221 6 19
By Itanna

Alexander

   The night felt like it passed in inch increments after Thomas left for the reception. He had been reluctant as it was to go to the reception at all and after I pointed out the fact that little Martha would need to go to bed long before the reception was over the idea of attending the reception became utterly repugnant to him. He tried to form a solid argument, based entirely on the fact that he is a new father. My rebuttal, I am not. I am painfully familiar with how to put a small child to bed, regardless of their protests as well as those of their father. After several goodbye and goodnight kisses between the two Jeffersons I was forced to pry them away and usher him out the door. If there is any hope at all that Thomas will be able to rescue his relationship with his family then he could not be late tonight. 

   Martha went down pretty easily, her Pappa in his excitement wore her out pretty nicely. I sit alone in the living room, listening to the clock tick as I rest my head against the plush cushions of the couch. I have no idea where Thomas found these couches but I have decided that I need one, maybe even two of them. A brief glance over towards the clock and I notice that it is about twenty minutes until midnight. I hadn't expected Thomas to come rushing back here, but I must confess that I hadn't anticipated him being gone this late in the evening. I'm not sure if this is a positive indication of a Jefferson family reconciliation or if they are ghosting each other from different sides of a banquet hall. The idea of Thomas trying to leave but being blocked by one of his siblings pulls a quiet breathy laugh from my lips as I imagine his chagrined expression. 

   Tonight won't be easy, and judging from the three plane tickets I found stashed away in Thomas' nightstand he has prepared to flee back to New York. It's amusing that he thinks his family won't simply pursue him to New York, they have his tenacity but I suppose not the best track record when it comes to being there for him. Fleeing to New York had worked for him in the past, he probably believes it will work for him once more. He intends for us to leave on a 3:30 flight tomorrow afternoon, not much time for conversation but enough for us to pack up and fly back to his sanctuary. I pray that he will prove me wrong and not act on his more cowardly impulse, but at this point I realize that no matter what he does I am simply going to have to roll with it. He is allowed to burn as many bridges as he wants and there is not much I can say to stop him.

   The front door swings open and I jump into alertness as Thomas strolls through the door. He hasn't noticed me as he shrugs off his dress coat as if it weighed an additional hundred pounds. He jumps slightly as he turns and notices me peering back at him from the couch. There is a mumbled curse that falls from his lips before he smiles slightly and moves to join me on my perch. His body collapses heavily onto the couch, his head falling harshly into the conjunction of my neck and shoulder. I repress any outburst of pain as he stares straight ahead with sleep deprived eyes, the faint smell of alcohol clinging to his skin. 

   "How was the reception?"

   "I fixed everything if that's what you really wanted to know." he mumbles, pressing his head against me just like a cat would. He almost seems to be preening, begging for some sort of touch. I run a hesitant hand through his curls and his whole body seems to relax, melting into my side as his eyes close and his lips curl into a sweet smile. "We talked." 

   "All of you?" I ask curiously.

   "Only the guilty party."

   "And how is your mother?"

   "She and I will never be the same," he confesses softly. "No one could expect us to ever go back after everything that's happened."

   "I understand." 

   "We're working on it." he sighs, turning to wrap his arms around me. "I'm ready to go home, Alexander. We should go home." 

   "I realized that when I stumbled across the plane tickets you purchased." I reply gently, careful to keep any notes of suspicion out of my voice. He chuckles against me, the rumble of his laughter echoing into the canyon of my chest.

   "You mean snooped." He corrects with a laugh. "We have to go home sometime." 

   "I know," I breathe, enjoying the gentle warmth of him as he holds me close. "I'm glad that you and your family worked things out." 

   "We still have a ways to go," He mumbles. "but at least this is a start."

   I tighten my hold on him as I realize just how much I don't want to leave. Being here, as dramatic as it has been, has offered what the two of us needed; a ceasefire. We had been at each other's throats not too long ago and ever since this circumstance came to light we were a team again. I'm terrified that once we get back to New York we'll fall apart all over again. He groans quietly as my hold on him becomes slightly painful, tucking my knees up to my chest to hold him prisoner as he peers up at me through dark lashes and stray curls. 

   He doesn't say a word as he studies me, his dark brown eyes are burning as he stares into my eyes. I find myself shying away from his gaze as the anxiety tightens my chest and causes my stomach to churn. He pulls me close, almost sliding me under him as my breath catches in my throat. His eyes are hovering over me as he peers down at me like a predator, patiently waiting for me to expose myself to him, my truth and my weakness. 

   "What happens when we go back to New York?" I ask weakly. He continues to stare at me in silent expectation, his eyes harboring an intense fire that I haven't seen before. I don't know how  to interpret it or how to react so I fill the anxious void with as many honest words as I can. "I don't know what to expect, honestly." A weak laugh escapes me as he continues to stare. "Do we just pretend that everything that happened before this didn't happen? Do we go back to the way things were before my apartment was destroyed? I don't know what to expect or what to do when that plane lands."

   "You're overthinking." He offers simply. 

   "Well, sometimes it feels like I have to think for everyone in the room." I reply curtly. He chuckles at my words as he pulls me against his chest, his body dropping against me as we fall back onto the couch. My arms wrap around him tightly as the weight of him presses me deeply into the cushions. 

   "I assure you I can think for myself."  He teases. 

   "Then tell me what you think will happen once we get back to New York because I can't think about it anymore." 

   "The answer is pretty simple, it's going to drive you crazy." 

  "Just say it." I groan. 

   "We live," He whispers. "You and me, we go home, we raise a beautiful little girl together, go to work together and come home to one another. That is what I want to happen, a happily ever after with you." Tears begin to well up in my eyes as I grip onto his dress shirt with such desperation you would think I was drowning in him. "You and I, we have our bumps and our bruises, but I have never wished for a second to live without you. I don't want to ever have to live without you."

   "I feel the same." I whisper through the tears, barely holding myself together. 

   "Then let's be together. Don't think about anymore what ifs, our life together won't be perfect but neither of us have ever desired perfection from one another. We'll live and figure it out as we go." He plants a gentle kiss on my hair, holding me close for a moment as I breathe deeply. "Sound like a plan?"

   "Yes," I breathe. "I like that plan." 

   "That's a first." He chuckles into my hair. "You actually agreed with one of my plans." 

   "Please don't ruin this." I plead softly. I feel him smile against my skin gently as he presses another kiss onto my face, whispering sweet apologies into my skin.

   "Let's just live. I promise I won't ever let you be bored. We'll live together and be exactly what we are; everything we want and need encapsulated in another person."

   "Lets live." I whisper, clinging to him with such heartfelt desperation. For the first time in my life I believe the promises being sold to me. I believe them with all of my heart and I can't fight the honest trust he has planted within my soul. I breathe him in, appreciate his warmth as I get a small taste of what I hope to be forever.

   He and I, forever and always. It has a nice ring to it.

   "Show me happily ever after" I whisper.

   "With pleasure." 

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