Isn't it confusing, what first love does to a man?
Story where Alexine is Soldier Boy's first love and rekindle after many years apart.
[UNGOING]
[Warnings; smut, angst, torture, mention of torture, trauma, physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse...
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Alexine's small flat in New York was a stark contrast to the home she once knew in France. The apartment was cramped, barely furnished with a single bed pushed against one wall, a rickety wooden table with two mismatched chairs, and a small kitchenette that seemed more suited for a dollhouse than for actual cooking. The only light came from a dim overhead bulb and a small window overlooking a busy street below. The walls were thin, often allowing the sounds of the city and her neighbors' lives to intrude into her space. Despite its shortcomings, it was a roof over her head and a step away from the horrors of the war.
Alexine sat on the bed, counting the few dollars she had managed to pilfer that day. Her mind was a whirlwind of worries about her future, the constant fear of getting caught gnawing at her.
A loud knock on the door startled her, and she quickly hid the money under her mattress.
Opening the door cautiously, she was greeted by the sight of a man in a dark suit, his demeanor exuding authority. He held up a badge.
"OSS. I'm Agent Donovan," he said, his voice calm but firm.
Agent Donovan was a man in his mid-thirties, exuding a quiet confidence that came from years of experience. He stood at about six feet tall, with a lean and athletic build that suggested he could handle himself in a tough situation. His dark hair was neatly combed, with just a hint of gray at the temples, giving him an air of seasoned authority.
Alexine blinked, confusion flickering across her brown eyes. "OSS?"
"Yes, Office of Strategic Services," he clarified, noting her unfamiliarity with the term. "We need to talk. You're in big trouble."
"I... I don't understand," Alexine stammered, trying to maintain her composure.
"You robbed me last night," Agent Donovan stated bluntly, stepping forward. "And I found you. Now, you can let me in, or we can have this conversation in the hallway. Your choice."
Alexine's heart pounded in her chest. She remembered that man; she had talked to him in a bar downtown, forced him to give her his money with her powers, and left. In her hurry, she might have forgotten to erase his memory.
She hesitated but then stepped aside, allowing him to enter. The small space felt even more claustrophobic with him inside.
Donovan looked around briefly, his expression unreadable. "Nice place," he said with a hint of sarcasm, before turning his attention back to Alexine.
What a shithole, he thought.
"Let's get straight to the point. You've been using your... abilities to steal. That's a problem." His voice was calm and measured, carrying a subtle authority that commanded attention without the need for raised volume. There was a hint of a New York accent, softened by years of travel and exposure to different cultures and regions.
"I had no choice," Alexine said defensively. "The stipend they gave me, it's not enough. I tried to find work, but no one will hire me."
She wouldn't go around and serve beers to men. No, that she'd never do. She went to a police station to offer her service and they told her she could work as a secretary. She'd never do that either. She was once a very well-respected member of the Reich, although she was unaware at that time what this government was doing considering the Jews, the gays, and every minority they could find.
