The Lost Love Above | Elizabeth x (m) Reader!

For a moment. Normality.

  "Are we really going to try doing this now?" Elizabeth's voice came out in a heated breath as I shuffled behind her.

  "If not now, then when?" I ask, my voice strained as I feel her press against me. I swallowed as I felt my face become red. "It is a tight fit."

If our position allowed it, Elizabeth would have looked back at me, but she couldn't even do that. And for that, I was thankful. Finally, she moved, and I felt her squirming. I grunt and push her down. "Stop moving so much," I moan, nearly breathless.

  "Well!" She exhales. "If I don't start moving, [Y/N], then we'll be here forever!"

Her fingers then stretched, reaching for the tear hovering above us. A hook appeared, discolored and fuzzy as most of her products usually were. "Wonderful," I say. "Now I can grab you without having to apologize."

  "What?"

I grabbed Elizabeth, and we both shot into the air as I latched onto one of her tears. She held onto me tightly, obviously not expecting me to grab her so suddenly or get launched into the air, pulling us both out of the broken crate we had fallen into just moments before.

...How exactly did we end up here together and technically alone? It started with a short but violent argument between Elizabeth and Booker when she pieced together he wasn't going to take her to Paris on the airship— she knew exactly where the coordinates led and confronted him about it. She put on what I now assume was an act of being upset about it. It lowered both of our guards, and he went to console her. Elizabeth then succeeded in what I hadn't been able to do since my first day as his partner. She managed to surprise and hit him— she knocked him out!

I wasn't in a position to either shoot or tackle her since she was so close to the control console, so I put my hands out and spoke to her instead, but I couldn't get far with any speeches because another airship loomed in not long after she struck Booker. It got close enough that a boarding party was soon jumping on.

Instead of sticking around to exchange pleasantries, I grabbed Elizabeth and told her to be quiet. I believed it to be more of Comstock's men, but as we ducked into a closet, it became clear that this was another faction. White men came in with colored men; they wore red accented rags and hauled in wounded. A black woman came in last and regarded Booker, still motionless on the floor. 

I observed what would happen, but the closet's floor trembled, and we both fell through; apparently, this was a chute of some sort, and we free-fell about 6-7 feet onto a platform. I counted this as a blessing since we could have both easily fallen to our deaths, but I digress.

Elizabeth wasted no time pushing me away and running towards the most open area she could see. I tried to grab at her, but she was nimbler than I thought, so she slipped away inches away from my nearest finger. I shouted for her to stop and even debated winging a shot at her but ultimately decided not to. I needed her to trust me, and putting a bullet in her wouldn't help that matter...

Long story short, I caught her, and when we collided. We fell through a rotted wooden roof and ended up pressed against one another like two peas in a pod and then the opposite a few seconds later, which brings us right where we were now... 

...This wasn't a romantic movie or a love poem, this was an awkward walk made in silence, only made worse that there was a smell of industry in the air and had the distant sound of hard men working. That said, I couldn't complain much. I hadn't been shot at or even yelled at since getting here, so this must've meant we weren't all that special here in Finkton island, as I referred to this part of Columbia...

I caught up to Elizabeth and stopped her as we steadied on a bridge that extended from one platform to another. Elizabeth pushed her way out of my grip. I pulled my arm back. For one reason or another, this reminded me of the time earlier when we were pressed up against each other. Call me a pervert if you fancy, but I was missing that sensation, it felt oddly familiar to me, and I was longing to relive it again. She spun on her heel and crossed her arms at me. "Are you going to convince me to return to Booker so you can haul me off to New York?"