Our Little Secret ||Historical Lams Oneshots||

Promises

me? updating?
i got this idea while trying to write another shot, i can't stay focused
tw: slight implication of s/h

Tonight, John is the one sitting at the desk, writing a letter on his black regiment. I am in full support of his dream, but it's late.

"John, I'm tired." I whine, standing behind his chair. I loosely wrap my arms around his neck and prop my chin atop his head.

He laughs softly. "Then go to bed, my dear boy," John tilts his head up and I press a quick kiss to his lips. He smiles, then returns to his letter. "But I must finish this, as you have told me on so many occasions."

I frown. "But I can't sleep without you."

"I'm sure you can." He doesn't look up.

I would've argued back had it not been for the yawn that escaped. It really is the truth, though—I only sleep soundly with my John.

Sighing in defeat, I step away from his chair and go to lay on the bed we share, staring up at the ceiling. "Promise me you'll finish soon?" I steal a glance at him and blush lightly. He looks beautiful in the dim candlelight.

John's quill still moves mercilessly across the paper as he responds. "I promise."

-

I didn't sleep notably lightly, but I wake up immediately as I feel arms wrap around me from behind. Blinking my eyes open, I turn around to see John. He buries his face into the crook of my neck, leaving a few soft kisses on it as he does so.

"You said you'd be done soon," I murmur groggily, still half-drunk with sleep. I turn my gaze away from him, inclining my head away from him so my neck is a bit more exposed.

John's kisses move to my jawline. "I'm sorry," he whispered in between brushing his lips along my skin. "I would've finished earlier had—"

"Excuses, excuses," I contradict teasingly. Shifting in his hold, I turn to plant a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. "Now hush up and go to sleep." I snuggle deeper into his arms and he enshrouds his face into my hair.

"I love you." John mumbles into my curls, his voice slightly muffled.

"I love you too."

~•~

The tavern is abuzz with drunken chatters and clinking glasses. I'm gripping John's hand beneath the table, safe enough from prying gazes. I roll my eyes as he downs his second beer.

"For Christ's sake, my dear Laurens, slow down!" The laugh that laced my words betrayed my irritated intent.

John looked me in the eyes and set his cup down. He stared at me intently. "What is it?" I asked.

"Your eyes," he huffed, and leaned back into his chair. "They're too pretty."

I look attentively at the tabletop, trying to hide my blush. It's not as though he'd never said my eyes were pretty, but his bluntness caught me off-guard.

"No more drinks for you," I say, pushing his glass away from him. "I don't want to drag you back to camp."

"Fine..."

"Promise?"

"...I promise."

-