STORY: MY FIRST AND MY LAST

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST HUG

Notes: It's finally here, the second chapter. I'm so sorry it took so long but if you follow me on Tumblr, you'll probably know I'm kind of dealing with an issue right now but well, I managed to get this out. It's not very long but I feel like it captures all it needs to.

Big thanks to my amazing proof reading bestie queerukuleleplayer. Thank you for your support and thank you for being an awesome friend.

Patsy sat on a bench in the small park that was close to The London. It was the anniversary of her mother's death and unlike other years, she just couldn't manage to get on with work and life and forget about that dreadful day, so many years ago. No, today her mind had decided that it wanted to wallow in the loss and her failure to save her mother.

She knew that it wasn't her fault. She knew, rationally that she was a child who didn't have the means nor the knowledge to cure her mother but that didn't mean that she didn't feel guilty. Her mother had died, her sister had died and she had survived. Why did she survive? Why wasn't she the one who had passed away. She had barely gotten sick in the camp. She'd been hungry and frail, yes but aside from a few runny noses and a few coughs she'd never had anything and her mother and her sister both had died from diseases that could have been easily cured.

Patsy felt herself being transported back to being a young child. She felt the beatings she had received over the years, she felt the unique mix of frustration and fear that had ruled her back in the camp, she felt the powerlessness again and she had to shake her head to make images and feelings fade away. She couldn't go back there mentally, she might not recover if she got stuck there like her father had. He was still tortured by the camp every day and Patsy didn't want to be like him and let those monsters dictate her life.

She could mostly ignore what had happened and she was proud of that fact. The scars had faded and no one but herself could see them, as you had to come quite close to notice them. She didn't have a sweetheart, nor would she probably ever have one so no one would find out. She could also easily forget what had happened to her when she was working or when she was lost in a book but it were days like this when she simply felt like she couldn't think of anything else.

She was lost in thoughts when a voice cut through the silence. "If that isn't my favourite blonde." She heard the familiar voice of her friend. Delia. She sounded so excited to see her and seemed to be in such a good mood. Patsy hated that she'd probably ruin that but she couldn't hide the look on her face, it was simply impossible.

Delia saw her expression and she immediately stopped smiling brightly. "Pats, what's wrong?" She asked, frowning in concern and confusion as she had no idea what could have caused this upset.

Pats, Delia had said. It brought her comfort, that nickname.

Delia had started calling her that a month ago. She had quite unceremoniously burst into her life, right through her carefully built walls and was now comfortably nestled into Patsy's life. It had only taken her about three months to do so.

Patsy had tried to keep her distance as she'd promised herself but Delia had this way of making her laugh that she just couldn't resist her. She was intelligent and oh, so charming and she was so… completely herself. She didn't hide much, Patsy thought and she was so good with people, with the patients. She always knew just what to say to get something done and she always knew what to say or do to make someone feel better.

Patsy knew that she was in love with Delia. She couldn't deny it to herself any longer but she also knew that this was an attraction, a love that could never be spoken of. Delia was her friend and she'd rather have a good friend than tell Delia about her feelings and lose her completely. She wouldn't be able to stand it.

Patsy sighed and bit her lip. She still hadn't answered the question and Delia looked increasingly more worried. This wasn't easy to talk about at all. She realised she had to say something, though and lying to Delia just wouldn't do. "I-It's the anniversary of my mother's death today." She admitted and just speaking the words made her start to cry. Speaking them made it even more real.

Delia's eyes went wide and she quickly took a seat next to her friend. "Oh, Patsy, I had no idea." She told her and Patsy let out a tiny chuckle.

"How could you know? I never said a word about it." She told Delia as she tried to wipe away her tears. She didn't like people seeing her cry, not even Delia.

Delia reached out to touch Patsy's knee and Patsy was too distraught to move away from such a touch that evoked such feelings in her. Not sexual at all, she was way too upset for such things, but feelings for comfort that just weren't strictly friendly.

"Do you… Do you want to talk about it?" Delia asked, wanting to find something that would help, that would ease the pain Patsy felt.

Patsy shook her head. "No, I'd rather not." She told Delia. She didn't want to have to reveal where she'd spent part of her childhood, she didn't want to describe the helplessness she had felt as a young child, not able to help her mother and sister, she didn't want to describe crying as she held her dying family members, she didn't want to talk about any of that. She just wanted to forget and for it to stop hurting so much.

Delia on the other hand felt powerless in easing her friend's emotional distress. She watched as Patsy couldn't fight the tears and kept on crying. The sobs that came from the strong woman's lips absolutely broke Delia's heart. She just had to reach out and hug Patsy close. She knew that she might be pushed away but she had to take that risk.

Patsy stiffened for a second before she let herself be comforted and she latched onto Delia as if she was the last thing keeping her from death itself. She sobbed into Delia's shoulder and for once, she was held as she grieved. She knew that she was falling deeper for Delia in this moment, as this beautiful, sensitive and sweet woman held her. She also didn't care because she needed this. She needed a comforting touch, she needed to feel loved and cared for. She ignored the lingering thought of how wrong it was, how disgusted Delia would be if she knew the depth of her feelings. She couldn't deal with those self-loathing thoughts right now.

What she didn't know was that in that moment was that Delia was falling just as hard.

NEXT CHAPTER: FIRST LOVE CONFESSION