//TW: swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, implications of rape\\

Somebody's going to die tonight.

Also, above is my take on Abraham Lincoln

(Edit: omg I drew that so long ago please believe thats not indicative of my current skill)

Thomas

"Alexander?" I asked upon seeing him standing outside my door.

He stood there, a breath away and a world away. My fingers trembled to touch him, to reach out and confirm for myself that he was not a ghost, not a figment of my imagination. I ached for his touch, ached to press my hand against his chest and feel the steady beating of his heart against my skin, the most beautiful song I will ever have the pleasure to hear. But I stayed where I was trapped within the confines of the doorway, terrified of getting too close and watching him swirl away into the fog he had stepped out of like some phantasmic masterpiece sent to torture me, sent to relieve me of my pain.

"What...what are you doing here?" I whispered. My words did not seem like my own. The world around me appeared as fractals, the yellow lights of the hallway bright but unfocused. Nothing seemed permanent in the state I was in, standing in the threshold between a dream I had idealized for so long that I become desperate for it, and the crushing reality of the life I had lived for four years. It was a window between two worlds, a portal that made everything seem less important, less permanent. Here, standing in the doorway, there were no consequences for my actions.

Alexander didn't answer, and after a moment, I had forgotten I asked a question at all. He stared at me, and I at him, waiting for something to happen, waiting to wake up from this dream and see myself back in James's arms, the hazy mists disappearing once more. I studied him, my mind everywhere and nowhere at once, lost in the lucid state I had found myself in.

He looked visibly upset. He had been crying, no doubt about it. His eyes met mine, and I could tell he was conflicted about something. Then, without saying a word, he walked up to me, placed a hand on my face and angled it down towards him, and laid a gentle kiss to my lips.

After a fire tears through the world, devouring everything in its path, you wouldn't think that answer, the savior, would rest in the hands of additional flame. After the fire has consumed all there is to be consumed, what good is there in allowing anything else to thrive at all? Why fuel what has already been destroyed, why add to the very heartless actions that have turned my life into a nightmare?

But Alexander's kiss, as soft and tender as it was, was in no way a fire. It was the rain that proceeded it. It was the summer storm that brought renewal, rebirth. It was the rain that healed the crippled land, extinguishing what flickering flames remained. Alexander's love poured through that kiss, and there is no other word to describe it. And at once, existing there in his arms, his mouth against mine for the smallest, most fleeting moment, the rain fostered the growth of the flower. At once, I was his again, and he was mine, and the world around me faded in favor of the garden—our garden—that had come to me in dreams.

And I pushed him away nonetheless, remembering myself and which reality I was subject to, and which boy was laying asleep in the room right behind me. Waiting for me. The hallway came rushing back, that awful scent of cedar wood and smoke that constituted James's cologne rubbed off on me. I pushed Alexander away, the bullets of my betrayal ricochetting through my chest. I was left reeling in the absence of his kiss, left to piece together those unsteady pieces.

There are moments where the world becomes so cold you can see your own breath, you can feel your fingers go numb, you see yourself as if an outsider looking in at an unkempt life, something so pathetic you can't help but laugh. That was one of those moments, and no amount of justification I could spin up would ever excuse what I had just allowed myself to do.

Nor would it be able to excuse how much I wanted to do it again.

"Alexander," I whispered, the tears washed anew in my eyes.

"Come home," he said at last, and his voice was real. Real enough to cement that he was here, real enough to cement that this was no dream spawned from my own unhappiness and desires unspooled deep within my stomach. Alexander was standing before me, and it carved a hole in my heart right where he had always been meant to inhabit. But watching him, realizing in every single awful way where I couldn't have him, was perhaps the worst thing in the world.

"I can't," I murmured, stepping backwards, where the only place I wanted to be was in his arms. "Alexander, you know I can't."

"Thomas, I can't do this anymore," he said finally. His tone was utterly defeated, and that alone made my heart drop like a bird that had lost its wings. "I—I feel lost without you, as if I'm buried six feet under stone. I need you back, I need to know you're okay and safe. I could say I missed you, but that doesn't even begin to—to cover the longing I feel. Every day I spend without you feels like living hell. Please, please, come home to me, love."

"I want to Alexander," I said despite the lump in my throat. "I really do. But if you or anyone else gets hurt because of me—"

"You know what Thomas? I don't care. I don't care what Madison threatens to do. I'd rather die knowing you're safe than live a lifetime without you."

Something burning rolled down my cheek, like the molten blood of a dying star. Alexander regained the distance, cradled my face, and wiped it away. His eyes searched mine, and as traitorous and cruel as I was, I leaned into his touch. I allowed his warmth to flood through my face, to fill me with his soft-spoken passion that he never felt the need to turn into anything more than it was. I wanted him to hold me close. I wanted him to hug me and never let me go and remind me of all the things he had promised me all those eons ago. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms and never wake up and forever be his and his alone.

"I—" I began, but the tears choked my voice out of me, and when it was clear I could not continue, Alexander did so for me. He cupped my face with both hands, smiled up at me with that infinitely gorgeous smile.

"You don't have to stay here, Thomas. You deserve so much more than this, and something deep I side of you knows that. You don't have to stay."

"Alexander," I pleaded, wishing I could drown out his words. They were simply too good to be true.

"And we can do something. We can call the cops. Get Professor Washington to do something badass. Anything. We don't have to live in fear of something he might do to either of us. We don't have to accept this. We can fight back. You can fight back."

His words were like honey, their meanings like a heaven I couldn't allow myself to believe in. He generated a beautiful, beckoning, irresistible light carved out of the passion that brightened every single word, and like the foolish, ignorant moth, I allowed myself to be drawn in by the stars he constructed with every syllable. How impossibly sad, that he will be my downfall. But there is a poetic justice to it, I assume, to the trope of the star-crossed lovers. It had prophesied our futures before we were even old enough to understand how lasting such a thing as death truly was.

Alexander sighed after a moment, and I know that I did not imagine the way his eyes glittered, as if filled with tears. He gasped for breath, stuttered as he continued, as if grappling with each word. "L-look, Thomas. I...I can't f-force you to come with me. This decision is yours to make, and I can't...I can't make it for you." He paused, swallowing hard. "But I want you—I need you to know that I will try my best to... to support you and help you through it all, whatever you choose to do."

He closed his eyes, a hand trailing down to find mine. "But if it helps at all, I want you back. I'd be willing to do anything it takes if it means I'd get to hold you again. And if that isn't enough to reassure you, then let me add this." And once again, he kissed me.

I could not resist him, I could not resist how wonderful the apple looked even when juxtaposed against that slithering serpent. He brushed my hair out of my face, laying me bare to the world, and choosing me in the simplest way that I was. He tasted just as I remembered him to be, sweet as rain with undertones of that unrelenting ambition I adored him for. It was impossible not to cave into his arms, not to want nothing more for him to sweep me up and carry me away from here.

But I am not the idiot everybody assumes me to be.

I watched him steadily as we broke apart.

"Love," he added. "Please."

My breath hitched in my throat, and in that moment, I made my decision.

I slammed the door in his face.

My legs gave way beneath me and I fell to the ground, holding my head in my hands. I didn't sob, my mind too caught to the euphoria of his kiss to be crying just yet. But the world rushed around me as I held myself there, back pressed against the hard wood, and my sense seemed to come back to me.

And then, I heard another gentle knock being rapped against the door. I sighed, gathered myself together, stood up, and opened it.

He just didn't know when to quit, did he?

"I can't lose you, Alexander," I whispered. "I can't watch you die and know that I'm the reason why. Go. Move on. Be happy." I almost cracked. "Find somebody who truly deserves you and never look back on what could have almost certainly killed you."

"Thomas—"

"Are you really willing to throw your whole life away, Alexander? Is that really a choice you want to make?"

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while," he quoted, his eyes meeting mine.

That's all it took. That tiny, inconsequential quote from a book written over twenty years ago. That's all it took to send the comet colliding into my world, to send everything I thought I knew spiraling into the infinity of space. That's all it took to break me, to fragment my soul.

I closed my eyes, stepped away from him, reached for the door once more. But I couldn't bring myself to close it, couldn't bring myself to deprive my being of everything I've ever wanted.

I stood at a crossroads, a door between two realms. No matter what I chose, something would end, somebody would be destroyed. But I suppose it was not a question between Alexander and James, but a question between choosing my happiness and a future written plainly in the stars, or choosing something that will inevitably eat me alive and a past cloaked in the deepest of shadows. Light or darkness. Rain or fire. Life or death.

I took a deep breath.

"Thomas—" he began to say, but I cut him off.

This was a horrible idea.

Such a small, meaningless choice made in the dead of night. Made with the echoes of James's voice still ringing in my ears, a reminder of the pain he had so easily wrought. Made with the glimmer in Alexander's eyes, a hint of the future that awaited me like starlight. Such a small choice that will redefine everything I've ever known. But all it would take was a single step, forward or back, into the yellow light of the hallway or back into the darkness of the dorm behind me.

How could there possibly be any other decision?

"Will you help me get packed?" I asked quietly. There was no going back from this, was there?

Alexander's eyes widened. "Thomas," he breathed. Then, a wide grin swept over his face. "Of course!" he exclaimed, springing forward and wrapping his arms around me.

I fell into his arms, my heart fluttering in my chest at the slightest of his touch, at his body pressed against mine. His breathless laugh resounded in my ears, resounded in my soul. I blinked away my tears, smiled to myself.

"Thomas," he said, clinging to me tightly in a way I had missed so impossibly much. "I promise I will—"

"Alexander," I whispered, freezing up as behind me, a soft groan filled the silence. I waited a breath, but there was no other disruption. "Please. James is asleep. I don't want to wake him up."

"Right! Sorry! Honestly, I didn't think I'd get this far." His arms fell to his side.

But he couldn't suppress the smile that flickered to his face, the smile that fought the darkness back like a diligent warrior. The sight of that smile, however small it may be, elicited one of my own that hadn't existed for what felt like months.

I ignored his comment. "Come on," I said, taking his hand in mine. His began to rub circles into my palm with his thumb.

God, I had missed him so much.

"I doubt we have much time."

"Then we'll just have to be quiet," Alexander whispered, leading me through the room. I followed him happily, because I would follow him to the end of the world if I needed to. I would follow him through hell and back if it meant seeing his smile.

"Yeah, because you're so good at that," I teased. I'm not sure how I had managed a smile given everything that has happened so far that night, but perhaps the sight of Alexander was enough.

"Hey! I can be quiet!" he said loudly.

"Alexander!" I whisper-shouted, which probably wasn't helping our situation much either.

But Alexander grinned again, the flash of smile gleaming through the darkness, and something within my soul settled, cemented the importance of what I was doing. The choice withheld, and I drew a deep breath, and allowed myself to finally relax. Just as long as his hand was against my skin, his heart beating in time with mine. What could touch us, now? There was nothing left to separate us, for the fear had run its course. I was through living in the shadows and the pools of my own doubt. It was time to step into the starlight once more.

"I missed you," he whispered. There was nothing hidden behind his tone, no layers to dissect for added meaning. The three words were absolutely genuine, and absolutely filled with adoration.

"I missed you, too."

So close to that one word. But I wasn't ready to say it yet, wasn't ready to seal my fate. It lingered on my lips but I set it aside anyway.

We stepped into the room I had been sleeping in, and carefully shutting the door after me, I flipped on the lights and allowed myself just the briefest second to glance around. It hadn't changed since the last time I thought I would this would be the final time I'd have to do, but things so rarely do. Alexander squeezed my hand, and the regret that unspooled in my stomach faded. I allowed myself one last look at the cramped, tiny walls painted that dull gray, at the empty, cold bed that had offered me no protection, and at the ceiling that had been my only obstacle from the sky and from the stars.

I took one last look, drew in a deep breath, and stepped forward to pack. This time, hopefully for the last time. I was starting to grow tired of packing my things into little bags, like they alone were indicative of all I was as a person.

"Thomas?" Alexander whispered, taking stride next to me as I hurriedly packed all the clothes hanging in my closet into the suitcase that I had hidden away under the bed. "Are you okay? Your...your neck."

Against my will, my hand traveled up to my neck, pausing as it brushed against the vulnerable, delicate skin. I swallowed, picturing exactly what I knew he was seeing. The ghost of James's hand pressing down on my neck lingered. I could still feel his merciless touch, could still hear his cruel words whispered in my ear.

"Thomas? He didn't—"

"Yes. He did."

Alexander swore softly under his breath. "Thomas, I—"

"It's fine. There was nothing you could've done."

"Are you okay?" he breathed, taking me by the hand and pulling me away from my panicked packing just long enough to look into his eyes.

I smiled. "I am now that you're here."

"I'll get your books," Alexander whispered, matching my smile with one of his own. I watched as he quickly retreated, wondering what I had ever did to deserve somebody as wonderful as him. He set to work quietly, and I returned to mine, all too aware of his presence.

There was so much I wanted to say to him, yet there was so little time and we had to be quiet, otherwise James would wake up and everything would become, like, ten times harder. But it was so frustrating. He was right there, and I wanted to talk to him, but it was like I was gagged.

It couldn't have taken more than ten or so minutes. Everything I had loved, my violin and my bird, had been hidden away at Alexander's home, forever out of reach of James and his claws. Perhaps it filled me with a sense of pride, stepping backwards and admiring the emptiness of this room. Last time I had done this, I had been terrified of what came next, terrified of where my path would lead. I had been troubled that my life in this room had been so easily erased.

But now, it was the swiftest, most pure relief that had ever filled me, studying the lifeless room.

"Is that all?" Alexander asked, taking the bag that carried what few books I actually owned from my hands. "Are you ready?"

I glanced around at the emptiness, tears pricking my eyes. They were not sad tears. I swallowed, looked back at Alexander, and nodded. "Yes. I am."

I never wanted to step foot in this dorm ever again. I wouldn't miss anything about this place, the terrible memories nor the person who lived here with me.

But I would never have to face it again.

"Come on, Thomas," he said, entwining his hand with mine once more. "Let's go home."

I left the bedroom behind me, and all that stood between me and freedom was one last doorway to walk through, one last room to put behind me, a few more memories to burn. Alexander never let go of me, his tight but welcoming grip the only thing keeping me from falling apart. I wasn't scared of what would happen next, not as long as my Alexander was with me.

Until, of course, I saw the figure in the door.

"Where do you think you're going Tommy?" his voice was as sweet as sugar. It was a trap. A trap designed to kill.

Alexander's grip on my hand tightened, but it softened when he noticed my wince of pain. He murmured a soft apology and stepped forward, putting himself between us. "Go away. I'm not going to let you hurt him," he said. "You're a monster."

"Alexander. I would say it's good to see you, but that would be a blatant lie. So, Tommy, where do you think you're off to in such a hurry?" His voice was as cold and as hard as stone.

It took everything I had just to say my next two words. "I'm leaving."

"Hmm. Funny," James said, though his tone sounded far from humored. His gaze pinned me down. "Why?"

"Why?" Alexander repeated, incredulous. "Jesus. You're dumber than you look."

"Alexander," I breathed between clenched teeth, my eyes glued to James. He didn't look to be armed, but things were never the way they appeared when it came to him. "Alexander, get away from him."

"Why, Tommy? You think I'm going to hurt him?" James asked, enunciating each word so painfully clear. He stepped forward; I flinched. And at my silence, he shook his head. He even laughed, but I'll never forget the mounting hysteria that rang through the humorless sound. "You think so low of me."

"Thomas," Alexander said, a soft reminder. Now was not the time to give in. I could no longer allow myself to be the tentative weed, whipped and played with by the wind. He squeezed my hand, and I swallowed.

"Answer me, Thomas!" James snapped, his voice bouncing off of the walls. It surrounded me like a nightmare, coming from every corner of my mind. I took a step backwards, away from the door, away from Alexander. Panic drove my movements, that fluttering, all-consuming panic.

I repeated the words, for they were the only thing I could cling to. They were my sanctuary in the unknown, the two words I kept returning to even as the darkness swarmed around me. I swallowed and I repeated those words. "I'm leaving."

James's cold gaze hardened, while my eyes drifted down to his hands. They were empty, the gun nowhere to be found. "Why," he hissed out, his voice the same dangerous low of every warning he's ever offered me before. "What makes you think you can just leave me?"

"I am not happy."

There it was. The truth is often much simpler than we shape it, isn't it? When you peel back all the layers, all the excuses, all the lies I told myself just to try and get me through another day, the truth just seemed so...lacking. The truth is an empty room, waiting to be filled with needless commodities that detract from its power. But with or without those mere objects, you still don't affect the absolute nature of the room.

Yet it seems so pathetic to boil four years of trauma down into four simple words.

He stiffened, his body recoiling in the same way mine did whenever he so much as glanced my way. The world came crashing down around us, in a way, and the three of us were left to stare at the settled dust and the charred remains of what we had once known. Alexander returned to his place at my side, his mere presence giving me not the strength, but the courage to continue. The determination. For he was my light, and he was my color, and I could not let the shadows corrupt those wonderful things any more than they already had.

"James—" I began, perhaps desperate for him to look at me and see me the way I longed for him to.

He cut me off. "So you're just going to throw everything we've built aside? For him? And whatever lies he's told you, whatever promises he's sure to break? You're willing to give up on me, after everything I've given you, after all the worlds we created together?"

"Yes. I am."

"No!" His facade broke, a sob rushing through the cracks in the wall. No amount of plaster could ever fix them, not now. "No, you can't just fucking leave me! I won't let you!"

I took a deep breath to steady myself, feeling my eyes well up with tears. But these were tears of anger. "You tell me that you love me," I forced out, rolling up my sleeve to show him the cuts and scars. "Does this look like love to you?" I had to take a deep breath so I wouldn't break down into tears. My body was trembling by now. "I am leaving because I refuse to put up with this any longer. I am leaving because I am done being nothing more than an object to you, something to play with, something to break whenever you feel frustrated. I am leaving because I want to be loved. And simply put, you do not love me."

"Thomas—"

"This is not love. To pretend it is would be ridiculous. This is obsession." I forced the anger aside and adopted a cool, neutral tone. "Please, don't hurt my friends. They have done nothing to hurt you. Do whatever you want to me, I don't care. But don't touch them. Do not hurt my friends, and do not hurt my Alexander." My grip tightened on his hand.

Silence for a moment.

James laughed, long and low. It was a sad sound, quite pathetic. I listened, pulling Alexander behind me just to protect him. "Why can't you just love me?" James asked.

"The same way you could never love me."

"That's a fucking lie!"

I recoiled, the bravery fading now that it had been put to the test. My hands shook. Alexander slid an arm around my body, pulling me against him, and if it were any other place and any other time, I would have turned into his body and never leave his embrace. He had protected me before, and he would protect me now.

"We're leaving, James," Alexander said, and his face betrayed no emotion at all. No, not his face, not his voice. It was his grip around me that evidenced his fear, his hatred, and his pride. "There's nothing you can do to stop us."

Us. It's always us. There's something so comforting about it being an us.

James's eyes never left me. His pleading, begging eyes. His sad, tired eyes. But something clicked, like a fire finally flickering out of existence, bathing the world in utter blackness. It disappeared without any fanfare—no bright eruption, no stark explosion. The fire burned for one minute, then tapered away the next. It died without anybody to even notice.

"Fine," he said, suddenly devoid of emotion. "I'm not going to waste my time with you any longer."

"Wh-what?"

"You're not happy? Fine. Then leave," he spat.

"I—"

"If you aren't happy, then leave. I can't force you to stay in this relationship any longer Thomas. Leave."

James, without saying another word pushed past me. I flinched as he brushed my body, but I could not help but wonder if it would be the last time he would ever lay his fingers on me ever again. My breath caught in my throat, and I whirled to face him as he slowly found his way to the doorway to his room.

"James, wait, I—"

"I don't want you here any more, Thomas. Go."

Like every word burned his throat to speak.

He disappeared into the room, and slammed the door shut after him.

And that was it.

Silence resounded through the room as it suddenly seemed bigger, less occupied. I stared at the door for a moment longer, swallowing hard. It seemed unreal, as though I was looking through a window that had been glazed over in frost, altering the real appearance of the world. I gripped my body, my heart beating an unpredictable melody in my ears.

In.

Out.

I smiled.

"I did it," I whispered.

"You did it," Alex agreed fondly, looking up at me. Then, his face wrinkled in disgust. "Now let's get the fuck out of here and never come back."

~•~

Upon seeing me, Dick's beautiful call filled the air. I scooped him up as gently as possible and set him down on my shoulder as Alexander led me into the bedroom—our bedroom. I laughed the entire way, squeezing his hand to confirm that this was not a dream, that I would not wake up tomorrow crushed as I realized all of this had been some cruel imaginings designed to make me yearn, designed to make me cry.

But if this was not real, then nothing was.

"My plants!" I exclaimed, my hands shooting in front of my mouth with utter surprise as I soaked the sight of it all in. I set the chirping mockingbird down on the desk so he could investigate the flowers and the vines that filled the room, relics from a home I had finally returned to. "You...you kept them alive!"

"Hey!" Alexander laughed, spinning me around. "You don't have to sound so surprised!"

I fell on the bed, and it welcomed me back wholeheartedly. Rings of breathless laughter peeled through the air as Alexander fell with me, his arms wrapping around my body almost immediately and pulling me against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat resound through my ears—what a glorious, glorious noise.

"I missed you," he breathed into my ear, the joy dissipating at once. He hugged me tighter, buried his face into my neck. I sighed in content for the first time in God knows how long, and placed a short, sweet kiss to his cheek.

"I missed you too."

Alexander peered up at me, his eyes alight with a thousand questions that I didn't have answers to. But he asked none of them, instead pulling me down so I was laying next to him, gazing into his eyes. And suddenly, I couldn't help but giggle.

"What?" he demanded.

"Nothing. You just have very pretty eyes, is all."

"You're ridiculous."

I softened against him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. It engulfed me, and as he slipped his fingers under my chin and lifted it so I was staring right into those gorgeous pools of a depth so infinite and so fantastic, I suddenly mourned for all the time I had lost and all the moments I had spent thinking I was never going to see him again.

"Thomas?" he whispered, his breath warm against my face as he pulled me closer. Time stopped beating, the world around us gave way to the glory of the universe and all the stars that existed in the span of the unending cosmos. I seeped closer, taking in Alexander's face but never truly being able to fully embrace it for it was so much more than it seemed. He was so much more than he seemed.

He was rain in the midst of summer, he was the gentle song of chimes, he was the bursts of color in the flowers that made the earth the wonderful place it was. He was everything that made the world good and right. And he was mine.

"Yes?" I returned, smiling, as I knew what he was about to ask.

"Can I kiss you, my love?"

"Please," I murmured, sliding closer so our lips were inches apart.

And the world became colorful again, no longer plagued by those vicious swabs of gray. Just like the first time he had kissed me, and every time after, color exploded like fireworks painting the sky, shining their gorgeous light upon all those who basked in their beauty. Every intricate shade and hue returned as if they had never disappeared in the first place. The blues of the sky, the rich greens of the earth, the deep reds of a fire, and everything that existed in between.

Alexander pulled me closer, and I melted in his arms, for there was no place I'd rather be than there, his lips against mine, no obstacle left between us.

We were free.

When I slid away, once more were we laughing, once more was the world filled with infinite possibilities and endless chances. I couldn't tear my gaze away from him, nor did I want to. It felt so safe in his arms. Like nothing could hurt me.

I smiled up at him, and he smiled down at me.

I sighed, burying my face against his chest. Dick chirped out a coarse (and perhaps slightly embarrassed) reminder. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "I should probably unpack."

Alexander let out a noise of disapproval, drawing me closer. I laughed, knowing I should resist but unable to do so all the same. "No? You won't let me?"

"You can get unpacked in the morning. Now is cuddle time."

"That would be all fine and dandy, but I doubt you'll let me get unpacked in the morning, will you?"

Alexander shook his head, grinning as he kissed my forehead softly, one of the thousand little things that you miss way more than you realize, especially once they've disappeared. His fingers sifted through my hair, playing with each curl in a way that made my heart flutter against my ribcage. "You're adorable," he whispered. "And you're my favorite."

"You're my favorite."

He hummed his agreement, letting out a breath. Then, his slow, airy laughter filled the air once more.

"What?" I mumbled, lifting my head. "Did I do something? I—"

"You're humming."

"Oh! Uh, sorry, I—"

"Don't apologize! You know how much I love your humming, love. What song is it?"

My face warmed. "Uh, it's just...it's just the lullaby you sang for me when I was in the hospital. I'm probably not doing it justice but...well, I don't know. Oh!" I slid out of his arms, excitement fueling my movements. I blinked, laughed, uttered a quick apology. "Sorry, but uh—I figured out what song it is. I, um, I learned how to play it on violin. If you wanted to hear?"

Alexander sat up, his eyes lit up by that gorgeous smile. What adoration burned in his eyes, as though he was gazing up at the stars. "I would love to."

I slid my hands under the bed, reaching for the violin case. It had been exactly where I had left it, and the layer of dust that had drifted down atop it made me slightly sad. Wordlessly, I undid the case and let my eyes fall upon the violin. It hadn't changed. Everything else had but it hadn't changed.

Slowly, delicately, I lifted the instrument out of its protective case and slid it under my chin. The wood felt right in all the right ways, fitting perfectly to my body like an extension of myself. I returned to the bed, smiling at Alexander, who proceeded to slide behind me, wrap his arms around my waist, and lay his head on the nape of my neck. I tuned the instrument, and I began to play.

And I was home.

~•~

Hah nobody died. Fooled ya.