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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sat in her living room, the TV's flickering light cast a faint glow over Alexine's pale face. The soft hum of an old sitcom barely registered in her mind as her thoughts wandered far beyond the four walls of her home. Washington was embracing autumn, the burnt orange leaves littering the sidewalks, as chilly winds carried them into every corner. The once lively city felt subdued in its hues, much like Alexine's spirit. Benjamin had left when spring started to bloom, the flowers pushing through the soil, and now, autumn was well advanced. He had been gone so long, and in that time, her life had crumbled without her realizing it at first.
Her fingers twitched, the need to do something, anything, gnawing at her. Work was still off-limits—her boss hadn't cleared her yet—and the inertia was maddening. She needed to keep busy, to avoid the gaping wound in her heart. The loss of their child still lingered in the back of her mind, gnawing at her in quiet moments, yet she tried to shake it off. The cleaning, the visits to neighbors, the random moments of teaching history to Gunpowder—they were distractions. Distraction that helped her move on.
The doorbell rang, yanking her out of her stupor.
Her heart raced in her chest, a familiar rush of anticipation she hadn't felt in months. She stood up, smoothing out her flowy dress. Her bare feet clicked against the cold marble floor as she moved toward the door, her hands trembling slightly as they reached for the handle.
She opened the door to find Benjamin standing there, but not the Benjamin she remembered.
His beard was longer than she had ever seen it, though it was neatly trimmed. His hair, too, had grown out, giving him a wilder, more rugged look, but it wasn't just his appearance that made her stomach churn. His green eyes—those eyes she once found comfort in—were bloodshot, weary, as if they'd been pulled through hell. His clothes were civilian—jeans, a white shirt, a leather jacket—but he looked anything but at ease. There was an edge to him that set her on guard immediately.
"Ben—" she started, throwing herself at him, desperate to feel him, to know he was real and not just another dream.
But instead of wrapping his arms around her, he pushed her back with a roughness that shocked her.
She stumbled, blinking in confusion as Benjamin's eyes darted around the room, wild and frantic. He smelled of sweat and something else, something chemical that sent alarm bells ringing in her head.
"Where the fuck is he?" Benjamin barked, storming past her, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang.
Alexine's heart dropped. Relief at seeing him alive had morphed into dread. She hurried after him as he began opening doors, one by one, without waiting for an answer. She barely had time to process what was happening.
Finally, he found Sean's room. Sean—Gunpowder, the boy Benjamin had trained, mentored, trusted—was inside, indulging in the typical teenage pastime of flipping through an old magazine. Benjamin didn't care.
