Broken- And Fixed Again- (A Jamilton Fanfic)

Chapter 31: In Which Nine Toddlers Are Forcibly Removed from a Breakfast Place

//TW: swearing\\

Alexander

I grinned, tightening my grip around his waist and pulled my boy just a bit closer to me, burying my face in the exposed skin at his neck and simply breathing in the smell of him. What a wonderful thing to wake up to every morning, the most amazing person in the world laying in my arms. With him, I had completely forgotten what it was like to be cold, to be alone. With him, even if I do not know as much as I always thought I did, I finally know what it feels like to have that anchor keeping me rooted to an ever-changing ground, that solid reason to wake up every morning. With him, I can smile, I can laugh, all without that overarching sense of fear humming in the back of my mind every morning and night without fail.

Without him, what would I have? Without him, what would I be? They were two questions I never wanted to answer.

I hummed softly as I spooned him, keeping him as close to me as I could. God, it wasn't fair what he was doing to me. The absolute mess that I became before him. If it were up to me, the two of us would stay here forever, pressed tightly together on our couch, the taste of him still prominent on my tongue like that of a dessert so sweet its next to impossible to remember what life was like before you first tasted it. Dressed in the same, slightly wrinkled clothes from the day before, just another mark of how little everything else in this world mattered as long as I was with him, especially normal decorum. This moment was perfect and I wished I could bring time to the slowest of crawls just so I could relive it over and over, have it and keep it and never have to let go of Thomas.

He stirred almost a minute later, some soft sentiment drifting through the air. I couldn't quite make it out, but it sounded suspiciously like my name. I had never enjoyed anybody saying my name as much as when he did it. It sounded so sweet, so musical, coming from his lips. And in that breathy sigh, no less, like I was a dream just out of reach, a fantasy he could never truly have. The thought saddened me for a moment, subtly dragging me down. But I kissed the back of his neck again, my promise to him that no matter what, I would never leave him. I pulled him a little closer, savoring the slightly-faded scent of his perfume rising through the air.

"Good morning baby," I murmured after pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

"I am not a baby," Thomas mumbled, clearly still half asleep. I grinned and rolled my eyes. His Southern accent seemed thicker usually when he was tired. It was adorable.

"Yes you are."

"No. I'll throw a porcupine at you," he mumbled, almost incoherently. Then, as if realizing what he had just said, he shot up and asked, "What?"

"You tell me," I responded with a small laugh, sitting up as well and crossing my arms.

Thomas's gaze flicked elsewhere and he studied the wall, color seeping up to his face.

I laughed, wrapping my arms around him again and pulling him back down. "Stay with me," I whispered into his ear, rubbing his arms as gently as I could. He recoiled, breathing in deeply, but just as I shifted away from him to let him have whatever room he needed, he pressed himself closer. Hiding a grin, I murmured, "Let's just stay here all day."

"Sounds good to me," he mumbled through a yawn, nestling himself against my body and hiding his face in the crook of my neck. His breath against my bare skin sent unabashed shivers crawling down my spine. I grinned, sliding my free hand through his hair just in an attempt to get even, to show him the exact same form of tenderness. Our own little language, formed by touch rather than words. There were far worse things in this world.