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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As Soldier Boy's frantic search continued through the city streets, Alexine had wandered into a quiet park nestled in lower Manhattan. The park, with its modest green spaces and simple benches, offered a stark contrast to the city's chaos. Underneath the sprawling branches of old trees, Alexine found a sense of solitude that she had been desperately seeking.
Her heels had been a torment all night, and she finally slipped them off, letting them dangle from her fingers as she walked. She sank onto a park bench, feeling the cool metal against her tired legs. The city skyline, bathed in the warm, orange glow of the setting sun, stretched out before her. The day's anger and turmoil began to ebb away as she sat there, the frantic energy of the evening finally catching up with her.
It was then that a figure approached from the path. He was a tall, distinguished black gentleman in his forties, dressed in a sharp suit that suggested he had just come from a business meeting or an event. His gait was relaxed, and he moved with a calm confidence. He noticed Alexine's disheveled appearance and paused for a moment, concern etching his features.
A girl with such dress must not wander alone in these parts.
"Evening, miss," he said, his voice warm and respectful. "You look like you could use some help. Are you alright?"
Alexine glanced up, her eyes still clouded with fatigue and frustration. She gave him a polite but weary smile. "I'm fine, just a bit lost and tired. I've been walking for hours."
He nodded, taking in her discomfort. "It's easy to get lost in this city, I can't count the number of time that I have. I can call a cab for you or help you find your way if you'd like."
Alexine hesitated. Despite the discomfort, she didn't want to impose on a stranger, and she was still wary of her surroundings. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to trouble you. I'll manage."
He studied her for a moment, and then, with a kind smile, he sat down on the bench beside her. "Well, if you don't mind me keeping you company for a while, I'd be glad to do that. City's not really safe."
Alexine's gaze softened. The man's genuine demeanor was comforting, and she found his company unexpectedly soothing. She nodded. "Alright, then. I'd appreciate that."
As they sat together, the park's tranquility seemed to envelop them. The gentleman's presence was calm and reassuring.
"I'm Alexine Dupont," she introduced herself with a courteous smile.
"Wallis Milk," he replied, offering his hand. They shook hands, and Alexine felt a touch of warmth from the exchange.
Their conversation meandered through small talk about their lives, the weather, and even politics. Wallis Milk, a lawyer from Harlem, spoke of his wife, Lucky Milk, and their young son, Marvin, who was nine. Alexine enjoyed it, talking about a family to come home to was always one of her dreams. She still remembered when she longed for a home only to have no one to turn to in the late 40s.
