In The Darkness Of Her Room
A post And Then I Fell In Love Fanfic
She awoke with a start in the middle of the night, cold and disorientated and somewhat afraid, though not for the life of her could she possibly explain why. She sat up slowly amongst the covers of the unfamiliar bed, ran her hands through a mess of soft blonde hair. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head in her hands, arms propped up on the bend of her knees as she let out a soft, inaudible sigh.
The room in which she found herself looked remarkably different in the lurid light of the early hours of the morning. She knew this room well but had never slept in it before, therefore never seen it without the natural glow of daylight. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, her whole body shaking as she shivered with cold. It was familiar yet unfamiliar, this room, the shadows a little menacing in the dark yet their forms ones she recognised, could begin to identify as she closely became more and more awake. That dark looming form in the corner was the wardrobe; she could vaguely make out the window by the crack in between the curtains, though which the light of the moon shone through brightly, fighting a losing, hopeless battle to illuminate the gloominess of her spare room at night.
Now she thought about it, was awake enough to put her mind to it a little more, she realised she could quite easily count the number of times she had ventured into her spare room in the middle of the night before on the fingers of one hand, this time included. All of the previous occasions had been just a few short days ago; she simply wasn't used to the feel of this room in the darkness, the changes a lack of natural light could bring to it so effortlessly. She was not quite alert yet, still fighting the drowsiness left behind of sleep, still weary and disorientated and trying to remember exactly why she had fallen asleep in her spare room when she had a perfectly good bed in her own. Perhaps she had stripped her own bed linen earlier on the previous day, had been lacking in the energy to remake up her bed when the time came to give in to sleep?
No, that explanation didn't make sense. She had changed her bed linen less than a week ago.
Dazed and confused and lacking a rational explanation for her presence in her spare room rather than her own bedroom, Nikki pushed her legs back out straight in front of her and in one swift movement flopped back onto the bed, breathing in a familiar, comforting smell which was entirely unexpected and yet wonderfully welcoming at the same time.
Suddenly, all became clear.
Surrounding her now was not the soft, floral scent of her fabric conditioner she had been expecting, but the unmistakeable scent of the man who in just eight years had come to mean more to her than anyone else whose paths had cross hers in thirty five.
Harry Cunningham.
And with that realisation she let out a deep, sorrowful sigh, before burrowing her head into the pillow, pulling the covers up about her and losing herself in the smell of him, the comfort it brought to her, the feeling of being surrounded in a blanket of safety like nothing else she had ever known. Suddenly she felt comforted, released a little from the pain of the past few days, of the source of this smell which made her feel so, so protected in ways she failed to put into words each and every time packing his things and moving out of her apartment with hardly any notice at all.
Not that he really had to give her notice. It might be her flat but he had never been her tenant, not in the traditional sense. He had offered to pay her for use of her spare room, something which had made her heart flutter a little at his sincere, kind nature, old English gentleman-like, a character from a long-ago romance novel. She hadn't accepted, of course; had laughed off his gesture of kindness, told him he was a friend and welcome to stay any time, any time at all.
It wasn't an official agreement. She had made certain of that in her efforts to make him feel welcome.
But it had backfired rather spectacularly. Because not having to give her any notice ( not that she would have expected him to had he been paying her for the spare room anyway, but that was far from the point) had allowed him to pack up again and move on and leave her in just under an hour.
She had been given no time to prepare for the fact that the last few perfect days of happiness, coming home to evenings no longer spent alone but instead with the person she cared for the most in all the world, were to stop so horribly abruptly. No time to shake herself free of the fantasies which had begun to creep into her head every now and then during his stay; nothing graphic, nothing too intimate, just… just…
Just things that were never going to happen, that was all. Dreams which would never be fulfilled, wishes doomed never to come true. She should never have allowed them to enter her head in the first place, Nikki knew that, but somehow whilst Harry Cunningham had been resident at her flat it had been almost impossible not to give in to certain daydreams. They were the end result of those few short days in closer proximity than ever before, quite possibly inevitable, bound to happen no matter how hard she tried to avoid it.
Nikki hadn't tried that hard though, not really. She had known of course that only in her imagination would hers and Harry Cunningham's new relationship last forever, but that hadn't stopped her from hoping, maybe even believing for a few brief moments at a time that it could.
Stupid. She had thought she had more sense than that.
Even now, curled up almost to the point of being submerged beneath the warmth of the spare bed's duvet which smelt so wonderfully of him, still she was cold. She shivered a little more vigorously than she had before, her thoughts turning to the hot water bottle in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. That would be the most sensible course of action. She formulated a plan in her head, attempted to will herself out from under the covers and into the kitchen to boil the kettle.
But her legs couldn't move. Because despite knowing in her head what the logical solution would be, in her heart all she could think of was how much warmer she would be at this very moment if only the body the bed still smelt so wonderfully of were still here to keep her from half freezing to death in the unexpected cold of a May night. She imagined the feel of his body pressed up against hers, divinely solid and real and so, so different from the way it was when she conjured up images of the scene in her head on a cold evening alone. She fantasised as to how it might feel to hold him close, feel the steady beat of his heart pulsating through her as she curled up into the warm haven of his chest, the cool, gentle breeze of his breath on his face, slow and rhythmic as he slept so peacefully, arms protective, keeping her safe from harm.
And then, with one solemn shake of her head, Nikki Alexander threw back the covers to step out of the bed and that vision of pure perfection was all but a haze.
My first attempt at a oneshot and the first thing I've ever published- I hope it was alright! I've read so many fantastic ones on here and I don't want to lower the standard, but I just couldn't resist having a go myself. I know the ending isn't H/N, but this is intended to be a sort of prequel for a multi-chap I'm working on, assuming I decide to publish that too.
Feedback would be amazing, it would seriously make my day :) I'm completely new to this, so please do let me know if you enjoyed it.
Exxx
