Jiley Oneshots

Nightmares

Adaptation of what happened in season 4 but with my own personal twist since I found the season 4 plot totally inadequate, so yah!

Riley's POV:

Alfie stood in front of me, grinning and bearing his teeth all smug-like. My hand lightly cupped my baby bump. It had shortly become extremely precious to me during the eight-week period I've been pregnant, and I haven't been able to stop admiring it, adoring my unborn baby with such affection.

The boy stepped towards me and he tried to take my hand. I repelled. What happened between us was wrong; so, so wrong. Nothing even happened between us. He noticed I wasn't happy with mine and James's relationship since he was spending so much time on tour with the band and Alfie took my boyfriend's absence as an advantage.

He had tried to kiss me. Cuddle me. Embrace me, and touch me, like I had no feelings at all. To him, I was just . . . an object. He had sex with me, too. In the fricking office. Where I work - well, used to. I was drunk. He forced me to get drunk. Locked both doors of my office, pulled the blinds down and turned the lights off, just leaving his torch of his phone on. He told me he wouldn't let me out unless I drank. He held the keys for the doors in his hand. My phone was in the top drawer but he had locked it as well, shaking the set of keys in front of me. I had no other option but to do as he said. I had never been drunk before, just a little tipsy once with James. But Alfie forced me to drink: sip, after sip, after sip. Glass, after glass, after glass. Then I stripped. My thought process had grown faulty. My mind was blank. I had no idea what I was doing but I was doing it. Looking back now, I don't know why.

And now he stood in front of me, my inner palms growing clammy and damp in texture. My breathing beginning to get caught up in my throat. Still, one hand remained placed over my bump; my baby.

"What do you want?" I ask hoarsely. I tried to make up some sort of tough girl, who had no fears nor worries. It's a fake. A me I wish to have become years ago but never did. I've never been strong; not even in my wildest dreams.

"That baby's mine," he says, still smiling. His grin was like a cynical sneer, messing with my head. A grin so complacent, it was as broad as one of a Cheshire cat's. "Isn't it?" he questions subsequently. I roll my tongue to lick my lip.

"No," became my answer. My voice cracks and comes out rough; burned; dry. "It's James's. It's always been James's and always will be, just like I am," I state, a little bit more fiercely. He smirks at my retaliation.

"I'll make it mine. The moment that baby's born, we'll do it again. I'll show you what I'm really made of. We won't use protection; screw that," he scoffs. "You'll have my baby, Riley. And when it's born, I'll let you spend time with it, grow so attached to it."

It, he says. It's like he has no emotions at all. He's calling a baby 'it'. His presumed baby, 'it'. My baby, 'it'.

"Then when you love it, and will never want to leave it's side, I'll kill it. I'll make sure you know exactly what you've lost. We meant something, Riles. But since you don't see it, maybe you just need to suffer a little bit more. You'll have my baby," he repeats. "And then it'll die. Just like we did."

~

I jolt up in bed, sweaty and a relative peach colour, breathing and panting as my spine pulled away from the headrest and comforter. My hair had fallen out of it's ponytail from when I had been fidgeting, and my hands clenched the bedsheets in my palms whilst strands fell past my face.

"Hey," James says softly, sitting up and shuffling towards me. "Hey, it's okay, baby," he tells me. "It was just a bad dream, you're safe and you're with me." He kisses the top of my head and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him to rest the side of my head against his chest. He continues to kiss me; my temple, my hair, my cheek, and even places a light and loving kiss on my lips, as he whispers into my ear, telling me it was okay over and over again.