Three-Hundred Years From Then

Chapter One.

       I GASPED SHARPLY, shooting up into a sitting position from where I was laying on my bed and wiped beads of sweat from my brow. I must've had another nightmare. Reaching to my right, my hand groped my bedside table. I couldn't find it. Instead, my hand hit the wall. It felt like wood planks. Where the hell was I? My breathing became uneven. Swinging my feet onto the strangely cold floor, I made to stand up, when an arm slid around my waist, keeping me from moving.

     "Asa, what is it? Come back to bed," a male voice mumbled. It was deep and smooth, comforting me in my panic. His hand on my arm was fine, but large, long slender fingers, cold from the lack of heating, and a calloused palm, rough from hard labor. This was not 2015.

     "Who the hell are you? Where am I? What year is this? How do you know my name", I spat at him, turning my head to the source of his voice. I felt him flinch.

     "I... I'm your boyfriend, Asa, I thought-" He sighed. "It's 1775 and you're in New-York. I'm Captain Jamie Winston, also your boyfriend. Do I need to tell you your name as well?"

     "No, I... This is the War of Independence..."
     "Yeah, it is."
     "I can't see anything."
     "I'll light the lamp."

     I heard Jamie stand and walk across the room, then pick something up, strike a match, and the room lit up. I looked back at the source of the light. Jamie was quite handsome, from what i could see in the dim lighting. He was dark skinned from long hours of work, his bright blue eyes a great contrast against his face. He was only a farm boy before this war. Something about that bothered me. His dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail, but I guessed it was about shoulder length. I stood on shaky legs, moving towards him in determination, and pressed my hands to his chest, warm from sleeping on his stomach. I moved them to his back. Cold as a rock. I pulled away. Jamie let out a grunt.

     "You're a tease."
     "I barely know you."
     His expression fell.
     "You don't remember me. We've been dating for three years, and you've forgotten me..."
     "I'm sorry, Jamie, I-"
     "It's fine. We'll get reacquainted," He answered, his smile false. He was sad. I couldn't help it. I pressed my my hands to his chest again and stood on my tip-toes, pressing my lips against his own in a chaste kiss and his arms wound around my waist, pressing me to his chest, wanting to pull me back. It was pure instinct. I let myself be pressed against his body, but no more kisses were exchanged.

     "I'm sorry, Jamie," I mumbled.
     "It's okay. Don't worry about it, Asa," he paused uncertainly. "Let's go back to bed."
     I nodded and he turned out the lamp, leading me back to the bed and dragging me down beside him. This was not going well for me.