My Dearest, Laurens

A. Hamilton

I refused to allow John to go anywhere without me. Sadly, he wouldn't allow me to get into the shower with him but I stood outside the shower and got a small peek every now and again. He caught me one time and slapped me but it was worth it because I got to slap his ass.

He seemed really angry about the fact that I was following him around everywhere but I was just genuinely concerned about his safety but I didn't want to make it weird for him so I didn't bring it up.

I had to help him change his bandages every few hours and I almost cried every time. I couldn't allow myself to cry though because I couldn't give him any more emotional stress even if I was under immense emotional stress because of the situation.

My mother was gone, my father left me at a young age, my cousin was gone, I had no idea what happened to my brother, and even John, who I had just met, was almost gone.

It felt as if God himself wanted me to be miserable. I would not allow God's plans of my misery to falter me though. I would write my way out. Write everything down. That was the only thing keeping me slightly mentally stable.

I was typing as hard as I could, writing down all of my feelings when John came up to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind.

"What are you writing, Alexander?" He said softly, his breath hitting my neck and sending shivers down my spine.

"Nothing, what's up?" I asked, pretending as if I didn't know what he was doing.

"Oh, nothing much, just talking to you." He whispered, his mouth right against my ear.

"Well, I'm trying to work so maybe you could get Laf to come down here and talk to you." I smiled at him innocently.

"I'd much rather talk to you, Alexander. You don't want to talk to me?"

He lightly kissed my neck and placed his hand on the inside of my thigh. He started rubbing the middle of my thigh but I was not in the mood so I grabbed his hand and said "Can you please fuck off?"

He nodded slowly and walked away.