It had been a week or so since they had last left their base. They'd found the local high school, one of the last non-zombified larger buildings that still had power and space, to be a most suitable place to live. The library and abandoned lockers were a bonus, provided that you enjoyed books, and were able to pick locks if you could be bothered. It also helped that Alexander and Thomas could have separate sleeping quarters in different classrooms in a corridor, which, looking at the faded posters, was probably the history corridor, as the two men struggled to spend all of their waking hours together.

Thomas found himself wandering down one of the school corridors alone. After the last supply run at the bodega, Alexander had insisted on being left alone in his classroom. He only left to use the bathroom or to share food, which worried Thomas. He realised that although the Caribbean was one of the most irritating people he had ever had the misfortune to find himself with, he found the man's silence harder to deal with. Curiosity may not kill the cat, but it could well silence it, Thomas thought bitterly, whilst examining the lockers that lined the walls, hoping that some wouldn't be locked, that there might be something, anything, hidden in them that could be of any use to them now.

There was a locker, right on the corner, with the door slightly ajar. Thomas grinned to himself, as he sauntered over, and opened it wide. There had better be some good shit in here, he thought to himself.

The locker wasn't particularly full, there was a small pile of DVDs and books lying on the bottom, and another pile on the shelf, with a small backpack sat on top of the bottom pile. Thomas picked up the backpack and opened it. There was a worn old teddy bear wearing a dress and bonnet that Thomas just threw to one side, along with a flannel pyjama set with emojis on it, and a bra and a pair of knickers. Then, he came across the bottle of dessert wine, and a packet of Twinkies. He wasn't sure about why this combination was in a high school student's backpack, but he decided that he'd take them anyway. He put them in his own backpack, and carried on rummaging through the locker.

The books were all by Jane Austen, or about her. This kid was either a massive dork, or was trying to get a literature scholarship to college. The DVDs were pretty similar, BBC adaptations of the Austen novels, mostly. That was when he noticed the printed-out photograph of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy taped onto the back of the locker door, covered in doodled love hearts, and 'DARCY 4EVA" written on it in block capitals. There was also an inspirational quote-style poster, with 'Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love', taped underneath the crude Darcy image. Thomas groaned, and slammed the locker door, which in an act of defiance, refused to close.

Thomas shrugged, and decided to walk back towards the classroom where he had made his home. What he didn't count on was that Alexander at that moment had decided to come around the corner, probably to go on a locker scavenge. He looked even more dishevelled than usual. His eyes had the usual dark rings underneath them, but they looked redder and puffier than usual? Had he been crying?

"Nice to see you finally make a proper appearance, Hamilton!" Thomas exclaimed mockingly.

"Fuck off," Alexander snapped, "I'm checking for unlocked lockers, if you must know."

"You might as well turn back to your cesspit, for I have the booty already, and I don't necessarily intend to share my god fortune, unless you ask extra nicely," Thomas said, bringing out the wine and Twinkies to show off, "And I really do mean nicely, with no insults or swearing involved!"

Alexander actually looked impressed. "You found that in a locker? In a high school?"

Thomas shrugged, "Yeah, a kid was all packed for a girly sleepover, such a shame for her really," he unscrewed the lid, and took a swig, the sickly sweetness trickling down his dry throat, the alcohol kicking him in the stomach.

Alexander tried to snatch the bottle off of Thomas, clearly desperate for a sip himself, after all, alcohol for consumption was a rarity during these troubled times, and he needed in on the action. But Thomas just laughed, and raised his arm so that the bottle was completely out of Alexander's reach. Alexander swore under his breath, there were huge downsides to being as short as he was, and Thomas' teasing was one of them. He lunged and jumped up, clawing at Thomas furiously, whilst Thomas simply laughed. Alexander fell over, much to Thomas' amusement, falling into the opened locker. His head banged on the shelf, causing it to collapse, dropping the books onto Alexander's head, clattering around him. Thomas lost it there and then, clutching his sides as he burst out into louder peals of hysterical laughter.

Alexander felt hot, angry tears once again prick his eyes, but he blinked them away. He didn't want to give Thomas the satisfaction of such a reaction from him. He went to get up, and brush himself off, until he saw the green hardback book that was sat in his lap, Persuasion by Jane Austen. The page that was bookmarked and highlighted was the fateful letter from Captain Wentworth to Anne Elliot…

You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever…

Now, Alexander couldn't stop the tears, no matter how hard he tried.

30th October 2012

"Budge up, Alex!"

John had brought in the freshly made popcorn, and wedged himself onto the tiny sofa next to Alexander. It was movie night, and Alexander had been able to choose the film. John saw the DVD menu on the screen, and raised an eyebrow. "BBC's Pride and Prejudice? I didn't take you for a Janeite, Lexi!"

Alexander smirked, and said, "The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid."

John laughed. "You could say that again," he said, kissing Alexander on the forehead, "She is a genius. Shame you picked the most obvious of Austen's work tonight," he added, before pressing play, and shovelling a mouthful of buttered popcorn into his mouth.

Alexander crinkled his nose in disgust at John's manners, and said "I'm allowed to be in the majority occasionally, John. Besides, there is a reason for Pride and Prejudice being the most popular and enduring of Jane's works, the relevance to today's society that is reflected in the story, that status and money is still more important in the eyes of our elders when it comes to a suitable life partner, that first impressions are by far the most important, yet that they can be flawed, and we mustn't judge the characters of others based on how we initially perceive them…"

John looked thoughtful for a moment, then grinned, "Maybe Jane is trying to tell you something in regard to Jefferson, that he might be better than you think…"

Alexander grabbed a cushion, and threw it at John's head, but he squealed and ducked, the cushion hitting the wall with a dull thud. John laughed, and kissed him tenderly on the lips, calming Alexander greatly.

"I personally think Persuasion is by far the finest of all of Jane's novels," John said, licking melted butter off of his fingers, "It's the one that I turn to when I need reassurance, that I'm not fucking up my chance at happiness…"

Alexander cupped his hands around John's face, and kissed the freckles scattered on the bridge of his nose. "You'll never fuck this up, John. We're practically Darcy and Lizzie, except without all the squabbling."

John giggled, and pecked him on the nose. "Nah, that's you and Jefferson. I'd say we're more Catherine and Tilney, or Fanny and Edmund."

"I do not appreciate the sentiment of being anything like Mansfield Park!"

12 November 2012

A few days after the movie night, Alexander caught the flu, badly. John had insisted on tucking him up in bed, and taking time off work to nurse him back to health. Alexander had protested, complaining that he had a deadline for his latest essay on the Federalist Papers for the magazine, and that Jefferson wouldn't take too kindly if he asked for an extension because of a trifling cold. He croaked his annoyance as John picked him up and carried him back to bed (damn being short and light, he'd thought to himself, it made him helpless in times such as these).

He felt disgusting, surrounded by snotty tissues and cough sweet wrappers. John came in with mugs of lemsip or honey and lemon, bowls of chicken soup and words of love and affection. That he wasn't a failure because he was sick, he worked himself to the bone, which made him more susceptible to falling ill, he needed to rest up so he'd be able to write better than ever before. Despite John's best attempts to make him rest, Alexander was frantically scribbling short stories into a notebook that he had on his bedside table. He just didn't feel comfortable with not being able to put pen to paper.

John sighed, as he came back home from the shops. He packed away the groceries, before putting the kettle on to make yet another lemsip for his sick boyfriend. He then went over to a paper carrier bag, and brought out the book he had bought for Alexander. It was a copy of Persuasion, Alexander had admitted to never reading it, which shocked John. A novel about second chances, redemption and probably the most tender of all of Austen's novels, perfect for an immigrant looking for a new, better life.

"Hey, Alex…" John said, walking into the bedroom with the lemsip and book, "I've just got back from the shops," he looked at the notebook and pen in Alexander's lap, and sighed, "I can't leave you alone for a moment!"

Alexander chuckled slightly, and smiled weakly at John. He took the steaming mug gratefully, blew over it to cool it, and took a swig. John sat on the bed, and picked up the notebook, closing it gently and placing it on the bedside table.

"I got you something whilst I was out, Lexi," John said gently, placing Persuasion into Alexander's lap, "Maybe you can give this a go whilst on bedrest…"

Alexander carefully picked up the hardback book, caressing the green cover carefully. He traced his finger over the gold letters embossed on the front, smiling. Only John would be sappy enough to buy him a get well soon present.

He'd often joked that people should buy their lovers books instead of flowers and chocolates, John must have taken this to heart.

John leaned over, and whispered, "You pierce my soul, I am half agony, half hope…"

5th November 2017

Alexander had been alone now for a couple of long, exhausting weeks. After John's death, he'd stayed in the apartment, hold out for as long as there was access to water and power, and food to sustain him. However, the apartment block was becoming overwhelmed by the hordes of zombies that now seemed to fill Manhattan.

Alexander grabbed his largest backpack, and started to frantically shovel food, bottles of water, warm clothing and first aid supplies. He even managed to fit in the bottle of whiskey he had purchased to celebrate post-proposal with John, the proposal that was never to be. Besides, it would make good disinfectant.

He turned to the bookcase, ready to grab the first books he could get his hands on. If he was to be out and alone in the world, ravaged by the undead, he needed his old friends to keep him sane. As he pulled books off of the shelves, deciding in split seconds which ones to take and which ones to leave, the front door burst open. The unmistakable stench of death filled his nose and made his eyes water. The book in his hand was Persuasion…

A zombie had crawled up to him, causing Alexander to cry out in fury, and bash its skull in with the book, tears streaming down his face as the book was soaked in brains, ruined. It was almost as if John was saving his life, one last time. He had no time, the apartment was overrun by the undead. He dropped the book, a sob gasping from his chest as he grabbed his Glock, and climbed out of the window to the fire escape, and away from his old life, his life with John…

"Hamilton?"

"Shut the fuck up, Jefferson!"

Thomas stood in silence, watching the short man sob, his hair half out of its ponytail, covering his face as he sobbed, sat inside a high-school girl's locker. He was clutching a green, hardback book tight against his chest, as if it was keeping him alive at all costs. Thomas felt tears prick up in his own eyes. He hated seeing people cry, even if they were people he hated…

But, did he hate him? Had he ever hated him? Sure, he had been an annoying little bugger, but he was intelligent, witty, well read…

And now he was a shell of himself, only acting alive when fighting the hordes of zombies. It was like he fought his own personal war, not just surviving. It hurt Thomas so much to see Alexander suffer. He couldn't stand and watch any more. He walked over to Alexander, and prised the book out of his fingers.

"GIVE THAT BACK, YOU BASTARD!"

Alexander jumped out of the locker, snarling with anger, as he tried to snatch the book out of Thomas' hand.

Thomas looked at the front cover. Persuasion, by Jane Austen.

Thomas handed the book back to Alexander, who clutched it to his chest, breathing heavily, clearly trying very hard to stop the tears falling down his cheeks. Not that he was trying to wipe them away.

"I didn't take you for a Janeite," Thomas said, "Besides, Emma is a far better novel, in my opinion," Thomas rummaged in the locker, and brought out the DVD boxset of all the Austen adaptations from the BBC, "We can sit in my room, I found a TV with a DVD player, we can drink wine, eat Twinkies and watch as much Austen as we can stand. What do you think, Hamilton?"

Alexander looked up at him, shocked. Was Thomas… Being friendly? Amiable? Not to pass up on the offer of alcohol and Twinkies, he nodded.

Thomas lead the way, and Alexander trailed behind, hugging the book to himself.