Alice opened her eyes blearily, squinting at the bright light of the early morning. Her body was still muddled with sleep, and stretching out her sore limbs had never felt so good. She gave a soft whine, tightly gripping the pillow underneath her chest and head. It was accurately cold in the January weather, but Alice found that she was much colder than usual that Saturday morning.
God, why was she so tired? Why was she so cold? Why did her body hurt so much?
As she moved, she felt a subtle shift in the bed next to her, her body freezing as she tried to think of who it was. She rolled her head to the side, trying to see if she could identify the lump beside her. She jumped, her eyes widening as she recognized the snoring male, his own self facing the ceiling rather than her because of his sudden shift.
Oh my... Did we... Oh my goodness... Does this mean... Does this mean that he loves me as well?
Alice stared at him intently, her grip tightening on the warm quilt. She subconsciously brought it higher to cover herself. Hope blossomed within her at the thought that maybe, just maybe, the man next to her was just as head-over-heels as she. The thought made her heart flutter, and her stomach fill with butterflies that did little flip flops at the feeling. God, she felt like such a teenager, getting 'butterflies' in her tummy. And over something so simple as what she believed to be a crush.
How childish.
But she loved it. She loved the feeling she got when he looked at her, and she loved the rush of nervous adrenaline she got when their hands touched. She loved the way it made her stomach and chest flutter, her heart beating just a bit faster with every smile or laugh. She loved the way her face would heat, and a delicious shiver would roll down her spine. She loved the taste he gave her, the feeling of security. She loved his eyes, his happiness, his life. She loved everything, everything, about the the young man. From his tanned skin to his wheat blond hair to his perfectly whitened teeth. She loved it all. His arms, his hands, his thighs, his stomach.
And now, there was possibility that he felt the same way about her that she did about him. The mere thought made her happy enough that she had to muffle a laugh, instead settling for a grin.
God, she really was a child.
She felt overly giddy, excited, wonderfully elated. This man, this gorgeous, gorgeous man that she loved so dearly, loved her back. He finally loved her back. Maybe things would be good. Maybe they could start a family when they were ready, maybe they could get married, maybe they could be happy together.
Happy. That sounded delightful. That sounded splendid. That sounded... That sounded like happiness in itself, as strange as it seemed. They had been unhappy for so long. Happy sounded like such a promise. Happy sounded like such an amazing thing, too rare to pass up. She wanted that. She wanted happy. She wanted it ever so badly.
Happiness.
What a truly beautiful thing it was.
She watched the gentle rise and fall of the young man's chest as he slept, unaware of the eyes surveying him while he dreamed. She traced the dips and curves of his stomach and arms with her vision, watching the way they twisted and crinkled with his slow breathing. She watched the way his eyes flicked behind their lids, watched the way his brows furrowed, the way the muscles in his head flinched with every clench of his jaw.
She smiled, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair from his face, as it was annoying her. As she leaned over more closely than before, she noticed things she hadn't before. Like the slight amount of scruff he had near his chin. She noticed the freckled spread around his nose and cheeks. She noted the way those freckles blended with the color of his skin, hence why it was so strange that she hadn't seen them before.
She next took notice of her surroundings, having finally realized that this was not her room. She'd been in this room before, though only a few times. She'd helped paint this room, if she remembered correctly. While the young man had picked the color, a beautiful baby blue, amazingly close to his eyes, she'd delicately painted every corner like a professional. She loved to paint.
She smiled, remembering how agitated she'd gotten with him at times, repeatedly sending him from the room when he bothered her.
She bit her lip, remembering how he'd brought her things, made sure she ate. God, he was so cute. She smiled softly, remembering how she had tried to make the walls special. He said that he would let her paint as many designs on the wall as she wanted, but she quickly painted over everything as soon as she was done. She was terribly afraid that he would find them silly, or even hate them. God, if he had hated them…
So she painted over it, the simple shade of blue, the one that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes.
She'd painted meadows, beautifully lit with flowers and trees and bushes. There was a familiarity to the scene, but she never could quite place it. She'd painted delicately, using gentle strokes of the brush against the wall, flicking her wrist with precision. She'd been so relaxed, for the first time since the war.
He'd brought her tea, and lemonade, and crackers and biscuits throughout the day to keep her from collapsing. He'd brought her hamburgers and milkshakes for dinner- and ice cream sandwiches for dessert- specially ordered with everything she liked. She'd taken a break with him, her hair tied in a twin braid.
They sat together on the floor, their feet pretzeled underneath them as they talked and ate. He'd made her laugh, and she'd done the same to him in return. It was the first time in nearly ten years they'd actually spent time together outside of the battlefield or a conference. They listened to the radio, and they'd danced to some of the songs. They had a wonderful time, and it was like nothing in the world would ever go wrong.
They'd been so caught up in the moment that he'd kissed her, sliding his thumbs along her jaw. She was shocked at first, arching up, but soon relaxed and easily allowed the intrusion of his tongue. Not long after, he'd realized what he'd been doing, and quickly retreated, his face a magnificent shade of red, which magnified his sparkling eyes. Her face had lit up in the same fashion, heat spreading along her cheeks. He stuttered, quickly rising from the spot, avoiding her gaze. He apologized speedily, practically screaming the words before scurrying from the room.
She'd simply sighed sadly, wiping her mouth, her lips slightly swollen from being in contact with his own. She rose back up, rubbing her cheeks gently to rid herself of the flush, going back to the ladder to continue her work. She'd painted for hours longer, working long past midnight. She'd finally curled up on his bed around four, taking no time at all to fall asleep.
She'd been surprised to find that she'd slept well past three that afternoon. He had let her sleep, and had tucked her in. He'd placed lunch out not long before, seeing as the bowl of soup was still steaming.
She'd eaten the food, then took her plates down afterwards. She'd met him in the kitchen, to which he greeted her with a grin and a bombardment of excited chatter. He'd apparently forgotten about the night before. So she ignored it. They spent the day together until it was fine to leave, when he drove her to the docks and saw her off.
Alice smiled, relaxing back into the sheets. She allowed the blankets to rest loosely and comfortably just under her collarbone, her arms over it, curled up by her pillow. She smiled warmly at the sleeping boy, her hair splayed. It had obviously been undone and run through, as if she'd had a massage. It spilled over her neck, shoulder, back and onto the pillows behind her. Her bangs, frazzled, framed her face in an almost angelic way. She had marks along her collarbone and neck, and she was sure they were many other places as well. She smiled slightly, remembering how sweet he had been last night. A small sigh escaped her lips, her eyes slipping shut.
God, how could she be so lucky? How could she, plain, simple Alice, be lucky enough to sleep with one of the most beautiful men she knew? She giggled softly, staring once more at the man she loved. He was so cute when he was asleep.
Then the young man's nose twitched, scrunching up slightly, fingers curling in the quilt. His eyes darted around beneath the lids, still shut. He shifted, rolling back over to face her. Alice's breath caught in her throat, fingers tightening on the blanket bunched at her breast. Oh God, he was waking up. She froze, leaning back to give him room.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes with balled fists, much like a child. Still half asleep, he clutched loosely at the covers, bringing them up to cover his bare chest. She giggled again, covering her mouth to muffle the sound. His eyes opened blearily, and he blinked slowly, his vision beginning to adjust as well as it could without his glasses. His eyes focused on the woman before him, who was smiling nervously, her cheeks dusted pink. His eyes widened.
Holy shit.
"A-Alice?"
"Y-Yes?" She mumbled, her brows tilting down slightly. He wasn't taking this the way she'd planned. Worry settled in the pit of her chest, her stomach bubbling uncomfortably. What if this was all a mistake? Had it… Was he regretting it?
"O-Oh God... Did we... Oh my god..." He placed his head in his hands, face darker than her own by a lot. She winced, her fingers tightening yet again in the blanket.
"Uhm... A-Alfred? Is... Is everything alright?" He groaned.
"Fuck, Alice…" She shrunk back, her face growing warm with her increasing dread.
"Wh-What?" She finally managed to choke. Her voice was small, like a child who was afraid to do wrong.
"This… Fuck… This wasn't supposed to happen…" He seemed to be rambling to himself, quite clearly distressed. He seemed almost irritated, whether with her or not, she didn't know. "Shit… Look, Alice… I… This was a mistake, okay? An accident."
"A-A… Mistake?" She gasped, feeling a familiar heat behind her eyes.
She shivered, curling the blanket in her fist in her growing horror. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Oh god no. No. Please no.
"You don't mean that…?" She tried to control the tremor in her voice, which threatened to take over. It was all she could do not to break down right there.
"Look. We won't bring it up. Nobody has to know." He groaned. "I can't believe we did this…" He mumbled the last bit to himself, hands over his eyes. She tugged the covers higher.
"B-But-"
"Mattie's comin' over soon. So you gotta leave, okay? I'm sorry to just kick you out and all, I know it's rude, but you have to go." She inhaled sharply, unable to keep looking at him.
"A-Alfred… B-But…"
"You have to go before he gets here!" He barked, sitting up. She shrunk back, tears filling her eyes.
"A-Alright…"
Alfred kept himself covered, trying not to stare as the small girl slid out of the bed, obviously dazed. He watched from the corner of his eye as she picked her clothes from the ground, holding them in a bunch around her chest.
"Might… Might I use your lavatory, please?"
"Yeah." He grunted, yanking his jeans on. "Don't shower." She nodded, disappearing behind the door.
She reappeared a moment later, fully dressed in last nights outfit. Her face was streaky with dried tears, some still threatening to fall. She hadn't bothered to pull her hair back up, nor had she fixed her makeup. She held her stockings and underwear in her trembling hands, gripping them tightly. She slid her shoes back on, yanking her coat around her shoulders. She slipped out the door without a word, letting her silence speak for her.
Alfred watched her leave, sadness brewing in his chest. God, he couldn't do anything right. He didn't... He didn't mean to say those things. He panicked. He loved her, and... And look what he'd done. He'd fucked up. And he wouldn't ever forget it.
Tears freely streamed down Alice's face as she walked. She should've never gotten her hopes up. She should've never even dared to think, to dream, that he would want her.
He wouldn't.
Of course he wouldn't.
Ever.
Happy had never been so far out of reach.
