Why the Straight One? - Chapter 42: Chapter 42

"Is she fucking serious? Separate rooms?" I shut the door behind me quickly, glaring at him for not waiting until we were completely alone to talk. He was already pacing the small spare room, and he looked like he had had more than enough of my family for one day.
"Could you quiet down and stop swearing in my mom's house? Honestly, you're acting like a child. No one said we have to listen to her anyways."
"And why the hell does she hate me so much? Maybe she's giving us separate rooms so she can sneak in here tonight and murder me."
"Oh stop being so melodramatic. She hates you because she thinks you forced me to marry you, and that you've probably been a dick to me ever since. I'll try and convince her otherwise, but you should know that she's extremely stubborn, and isn't very easily talked out of an opinion."
"Alex!" He whined, and sat down on the bed. "Everybody hates me." He allowed himself to fall backwards on the bed, and closed his eyes. It had been a long drive, and we were both tired.
"They don't hate you. I know for sure that my dad doesn't. I thought he was being pretty nice to you."
"Okay maybe he was fine, but he's kind of a bit much, and your mom was glaring daggers at me. Then your sister Bethany started asking me about Raymond as soon as I met her. I got so sick of it that I told her he was with a guy and now she hates me too." I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
"She doesn't hate you. Everyone here is just a little...dramatic." He opened his eyes, tilting his head up slightly to look at me.
"A little? Your family is the definition of extra. And that includes you."
"I'd be offended if you excluded me. I'm the most extra Williams ever. I think I've made family history with how extra I am."
"And you all talk so fucking much. Does no one here understand the beauty of silence?"
"Of...what was that again?"
"Exactly!" He huffed in frustration, and I brushed back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead, scooting closer to him on the bed.
"Thank you." I ran my hand through his hair, and he looked up at me with a question in his eyes. "For doing this. For putting up with my family. As annoying as you find them, I've missed them like hell."
"If you are happy, then it's worth it. I'd put up with all the William's aunts and uncles, cousins and distant relatives if that's who you wanted to see."
"When did you get to be so nice?" I leant down and kissed him softly.
"I've always been this nice. What took you so long to notice?"
I laughed and kissed him again, this time a little harder. One of his hands came up to the back of neck, and he pushed himself up with the other until he was level with me. I kept my hands in his hair, loving the feeling of its softness between my fingers.
"How much do you want to bet that someone in your family is either going to burst in here in a few seconds?" Thomas whispered breathlessly when he finally pulled away.
"Why don't we just save ourselves the embarrassment and lock the door?" I suggested.
"Yeah, but...the door is so far away." He leaned his forehead against mine. "And I'm so tired and just want to stay here and kiss you."
"You know, you're pretty cute when you are tired." He grimaced.
"I'm not cute, I'm sexy." Even he had to laugh at how childish he sounded right now.
"Hey sexy, want to go lock the door?"
"No thanks. You do it."
"I thought you were the gentleman."
"It's pretty tiring work to be sexy and a gentleman. You can be the gentleman for a change. Go on." He shoved me gently, and I decided this was going nowhere and that I might as well be the mature one and lock the door.
And really I couldn't have chosen a better time. My hand was almost on the knob when it turned, and there before me stood my mom.
"Oh, Alex! I wanted to talk to you. Maybe catch up? I know it's kind of late, and you've been traveling..."
"Of course, mom." Part of me wanted to tell her that it was too late, and go back to kissing Thomas, but this was my mom who I hadn't seen in months.
"Great. How about we talk in your room." She shot Thomas a murderous glare which he chose to ignore.
"Sure, sounds good to me." She smiled, and began walking down the hall.
"Traitor."
"Hey! I haven't seen my mom in almost eight months!"
"Whatever. Enjoy your talk with your mom in your room. I'll just be here, trying to fall asleep by myself in your mom's tiny spare room."
"You know, I almost feel bad for you. But I miss my mom more sooo....see ya later, babe!" I rushed out of the room before he could say anything else to convince me to stay. My mom was waiting for me, sitting at the desk that looked exactly like it did when I left, just a little more tidy. As soon as I walked in, she jumped up and wrapped me into a hug.
"I've missed you so much, Alex." She squeezed me tighter, but I didn't mind. And I didn't even mind that she had hugged me only half an hour ago. It had been way too long since we had last seen each other.
""I've missed you, mom." She pulled away smiling, but that smile quickly disappeared.
"Are you okay? Has that man hurt you? Is he making you do anything you don't—"
"Mom, I'm okay. I'm really good, actually."
"It's just me, Alex. You don't have to pretend."I would have found this funny if I wasn't looking into the most worried set of eyes I had ever seen in my life. Guilt stabbed my conscience. I should have let her know more often when I was at the palace how things were, and that I had totally consented to my marriage.
"I'm not pretending. Thomas is amazing, and I have nothing to complain about."
"Is this some sort of Stockholm Syndrome shit? Because, I swear I'll-"
"Nice alliteration, mom! Have you considered becoming a poet? Or a song writ—"
"We aren't talking about me right now. You don't seem like you are lying, but that still doesn't mean I trust that Prince you are married to. He probably just married you to get in—"
"Hmm, well you can sleep in your room while you are here. At least I can give you a short break from him even if I can't help you while you are at the palace."
"Mom! For the last time, Thomas is a nice guy."
"Goodnight, Alex. It's so nice to have you here for Christmas. It's just like old times." She completely ignored what I said and left the room before I could say anything else.
I wasn't planning on sleeping in my room by myself just because my mom told me to. I was planning on texting Thomas to sneak down the hall when he thought the coast was clear. I was going to, I swear, but I decided to do it while lying down in my bed. That was my biggest mistake. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was fast sleep. We had gotten a late start due to issues with the king wanting to send guards with us, and by the time the queen had convinced him to let us go alone, it was already the afternoon. The drive was long, and the tome I spent catching up with Bethany was even longer. I was exhausted.
Looking back on it later, I would like to say that what woke me was the feeling that something wasn't right, or a premonition or something, but if I'm being honest, I woke up because I was cold. And I couldn't get warm again. So, since I was getting nowhere alone, I decided that two were much warmer than one, and that squishing with Thomas on the twin bed in the spare room would be much better than roughing the cold alone.
The door creaked noisily, and I winced as I slipped into the room. It was early morning and he was bound to be asleep. I glanced over at the bed, and cursed. He was turning over, I must have woken him up, I thought.
But then I heard the most fragile, heartbreaking whimper I had ever heard in my entire life, and I knew that he was far from awake.
I rushed over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, and placing my hands on either side of his face. He was muttering to himself, eyebrows screwed together in pain, his feet kicking and his arms wildly trying to push the man in his dreams away.
"Thomas! Wake up. Wake up, baby. I'm here."
My words and actions had the opposite effect of what I was hoping for. He began frantically pushing me away, tears streaming from his still closed eyes.
"Stop! Please, stop! I—I don't want this. I'm not ready." He whimpered, all the fight completely gone out of his body as he curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the man who had done this to him years ago.
"Thomas! He's not here. He's gone. You're safe. Please, wake up." I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to shake away his sleep, and wake him from this horrible nightmare. His body jerked away from my touch, and he screamed in terror.
My heart stopped at the sound, and I pulled my hand away quickly, frightened by what my actions were causing him to relive in his dreams. Sheer terror gripped my heart. I had no idea what to do, or how to wake him up. I had never seen anything as heartbreaking as his sweaty, horror filled face, and the broken way in which he lay.
I couldn't think of anything else to do. Words weren't doing anything, and I was too frightened to lay my hand on any part of him. So, screwing my eyes closed, and hating myself for not thinking of a better way, I did what I had angrily told him I would do long ago. I slapped him right across the face.
Instantly, his eyes shot open. I will never know what passed through his mind in those few seconds that he stared up at me, but before I could say anything to explain myself or comfort him, he burst into tears. I don't mean the kind of tears that I was used to from years of being a very easy crier. I mean full on, heart-wrenching sobs.
I don't know if you've ever heard a man cry. If you've ever been there when he reached the point where he just can't take it anymore. If you ever have then you will know exactly what that was like, and what that did to my heart. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms protectively around him, remembering how small and broken he had looked moments before, and still looked now.
"Shh, love. It was just a dream. You're safe. I've got you." I spoke softly in his ear, reassurance after reassurance passed my lips, but still he shook beneath my arms.
"Thomas." I took his face in my hands, trying to get him to look me in the eyes. "Thomas, I'm here. He's not."
"It was s-so real!" He gasped out, pulling his face out of my hands and burying it in my neck. "He was t-there, and everything felt like it was happening all over again." A massive shudder passed through his body, and he clutched the back of my shirt tightly.
"Please, make him go away. Make it go away, Alex."
"He's gone, and I won't let him near you again. Nothing can hurt you now, I swear."
He nodded; desperate for reassurance as he began to calm down from the dream that had gripped his heart and mind so fiercely. I shifted slightly so that I could lay down next to him, and his grip tightened on my back.
"Don't go!" He looked up at me, the utter terror he felt at the thought of being left alone like he had been after it had really happened all those years ago brought tears to my eyes. I pulled him closer, letting my own tears slip into his sweaty hair.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Don't go." He repeated, softer, but just as desperately, his voice broken and hoarse from the sobs that been torn from him. "Don't go, please. I need you."
"I'm not going anywhere, and I'm never letting you go. You're safe now, Thomas. You're safe." I repeated, hoping that those words would bring him to back from the past where he hadn't been safe. When no one had been there to save him or to hold him after his innocence had been ripped away from him.
I forced back my own sob, and pulled him as close to me as I possibly could. Finally, exhausted by his nightmare and the emotions he had been pulled through; he fell asleep held protectively in my arms. The thought of him experiencing everything that he has revisited in his dreams at such a young age, and all alone, haunted me so much that I couldn't sleep. Even when I knew he couldn't hear me, I kept whispering in his ear words of reassurance that I was there, and that I would always be there. I vowed that night that I would never let him feel alone again.