So its Allison Argent week because shes been dead for a few years, so i thought i would write a little drabble on her based on a poem a read.
'In the early evening, she liked to switch on the lamps
in corners, on low tables, to show off her brass,
Her polished furniture, her silver and glass.
At dawn she'd draw all curtains back for a glimpse
of cloud-lit sea. Her oak floors flickered
in an opulence of beeswax and light.
In the kitchen, saucepans danced their lids, the kettle purred
on the aga, supper on its breath and the buttery melt
of a pie, and beyond the swimming glass of old windows,
in the deep perspective of the garden, a blackbird singing,
she'd come through the bean rows in tottering shoes,
her pinny full of strawberries, a lettuce, bringing
the palest potatoes in a colander, her red hair bright,
With her habit of colour, her habit of life.' ~ Gillian Clarke
He woke in soft white sheets, the sheets of a stranger. The morning sun beamed threw the crack in the old windows. Where was he? Tiredness tugged on his limbs and eyelids and begged him to go back to sleep. So he did, and as he drifted he was next to a girl with brown locks.
When he had awoken again the sun was even brighter and he didn't feel as tired now but a contentness had settled over the man over night. He lifted his head, slowly, and sat up, blinking the tiredness away from his eyes.
Stood at the large window of the small bedroom was a tall brown haired girl. A brown haired woman. Her legs were long and toned. She was thin but not to small. Her hair fell in perfect curls down her back, her hair was chocolate brown. But he recognised her. Despite having her back to him, she wore a shirt, it had pressed creases in it but she looked like a godess in the white shirt. One name popped into his head. Allison.
Then it was like his whole life had flashed before him and he remembered her, their love, her death. Death. So why was he seeing her now. Unless he was dead? No, but he didn't remember dying, so he couldn't be.
"Allison?" He choked out. She turned around, causing the oak floor to creek. She smiled. Her skin was soft and fresh, her lips were full and a soft pink, her eyelashes touched her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
"Scott, i'm so glad you're awake" She gasped, walking lightly over to the bed. He had gotten a good look at the room. It had wooden furniture, and the floor had a polished shine to it. The curtains were yellow, but soft and not blinding to the eye. It was bliss. And he could smell faded smells of cooking, and of fresh air but most importantly he smelt her.
"Where am i?" Scott asked her, his voice didn't sound like his so he coughed so it would loosen from how tight it felt.
"I'm not sure," she sighed, he looked confused, she smiled at his expression, "it took a lot in me to do this," She said, her voice was gentle and soft, "you are technically dead, but your in a state of mind where your not conscious, we're in a bliss in your mind, however this is all very real"
"I'm dead?" He said, disbelief tracing his words.
"Yeah," she said shrugging, "Are you not happy to see me?"
"No, no of course i am" He amended, he had missed her, tremendously. Even if things were great for him and Kira he loved Allison, he would always remember her. But he slowly felt himself forgetting things like what she sounded like, or what she smelt like, or simpler things like her favourite song or favourite perfume.
"How is everyone?" She asks, her small hand finding his.
"Lydia won her feilds medal," He recites remembering his life, "Kira is a history teacher, Malia works in a zoo because she didn't want to be far away from animals, Issac is a coach now and Stiles is a cop, he still doesn't have a gun but he's good on the cases"
"What about you?"
"I'm a vet" He said, a smile playing on his lips as he knows he's finally doing what he loves best. She smiled warmingly at him, a smile that fit in so perfectly in a place like this.
"That fantastic Scott!" She exclaimed, an excited glint in her eye that he had almost forgotten that he'd seen it before, so long ago.
"How are you?" He asked, he felt strange asking such a question, this was death, how was she supposed to be.
"I'm great, me and my mum made up, I found Boyd and Erica too, they're inseparable, we all live like a big happy family. And we look down on you Scott, we are always looking down on you" She smiles again making her cheek bones rise. "Tell Lydia that i'm proud, and tell Stiles it wasn't his fault that i died, i know it wasn't his fault" she says almost in a rush.
"Of course, of course, but Allison, will i remember this when i wake up?" He asked her, confused and pondering the question himself.
"If you want to remember it then you will" She told him, rubbing a finger in his palm.
"How long do we have together?" He asked.
"Not to long, but a little while" She told him, her eyes flickering away from his. Her eyes a strong brown that he had forgotten about when she died.
"Then lets make the most of it" Scott told Allison, so they did. They picked fruit out in an exotic garden, she made a fruit crumble our of it. And when there day had closed to an end they lied in bed. They both had gotten sadder at the end of the day, they wanted to spend more time together.
"Scott?" Allison asked softly, he had his arm around her, her breathing was even and it comforted him, knowing her heart was beating.
"Yeah?"
"do you want to remember?" She asked him, kissing his cheek.
"I never want to forget" he replied, then she kissed his lips. A spark of energy and light and hope ran through him as their lips connected for the first time that day, she tasted of cherries and air. He didn't want to pull back. But he did because he knew he couldn't stay in this heaven for ever. He knew going back was inevitable.
So they led in each others arms waiting for Scott to wake up from his wonderful dream.
Hope you all enjoyed, i felt like i needed to write a closure fro Scott and Allison, please review and favourite! 💖💖💖