Author's Notes:A collection of drabbles/ficlets exploring Alice's history, her relationship with Alan and the darkness that threatens to destroy all she loves.
I'm neither a professional writer, nor an English literature professor, so go easy on me. I assure you any and all mistakes be it grammar/spelling or otherwise are not intentional.
As always this fandom does not belong to me.
'Tell me a story,' Alice said with a mischievous gleam in her eye. It was a challenge she knew Alan could not refuse.
'Give me a chance and I'll tell you a story that you will never forget,' the writer replied with a hint of a smile.
'Does it have a happy ending?' she asked feeling bold. Immediately his expression softened, as his eyes studied her intently.
'That depends on my muse,' he answered before continuing, 'If she'll allow me to have one.' The intensity of his gaze Alice had long since grown used to, the vulnerability she saw in his eyes still took time to adjust. Alan was not a man who openly expressed his softer emotions. He was a stoic sort, prone to bouts of anger and rage. To Alice he was an open book. A weary soul who used fire to hide the flood of pain and his drowning fears.
Over the two years, Alice had known him, not once had Alan tried to push the boundaries of their strange friendship, in spite the fact they both knew he was attracted to her. He never told Alice how he felt, or that she was the one for him. Alan preferred reactions to action, a trait that never ceased to confuse and dismay the young photographer.
His words, light-hearted and impish, did little to mask the weight of all he could not say. Slipping her hand into his own, Alice gave it a squeeze as she met his gaze with a smile on her lips. 'Only time will tell,' she truthfully answered.
He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her near. With a smile on his lips, he whispered in her ears a promise she would not soon forget. 'All I've ever wanted is all your willing to give.'
The night went on, and they never looked back.