Infatuation (King George III xreader)

~10~ Breathless Pt.2

*Edited: 2-1-2022*
Word count: 4366

¡Warning! This chapter will contain minor mentions of blood/gore. If you feel you are sensitive to that subject matter, then please read with caution during the first part of this chapter. Thank you!¡

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The blonde's residence soon came into view, the home quaint and silent in the soothing breeze that swept the countryside.

My walk over hadn't taken too long - only a few minutes of quick, yet calm steps through the mostly barren streets of town yet I still hoped I would make it back in time.

The last thing I needed was my mother to worry - tonight was one of relaxed celebration, new found hope, compassion, and compromise.

The home seemed quiet - unmoving even down to the taller blades of grass and a part of me was worried that I had missed the male's figure on my way here.
But my thoughts shake themselves away, forcing a blank state as I hum a soft tune to myself, to keep the silence at bay - I would've seen him, and even if we did miss one another it still wasn't that big of a deal, we'd just meet back up at the speech.

The edge of my dress kicks out with each step, my frame walking up the worn down pathway of gravel and dirt and the yard was as neat as ever - holding a small, barn-like shed that rested near the back, fenced off garden of small vegetables and fruits -

My body stills within moments, my attention peaking at the sound I almost missed.

I wasn't sure what it was, what had made the soft mixing sounds in the near distance - and I was partly certain I had just made it up.

But within those next silent seconds my brow furrowed.

It was subtle, something I couldn't quite make out but if I were to describe it to myself it would be a hard thud, and grunting.

I exhale; a soft, somewhat sickening sound of cracking contact making me flinch and I was both concerned and partially relieved at the lack of pained screams.

"Alex?" My tone was soft - my mind ridiculing my choice actions as I turn my attention to the yard behind the house.

The garden where a few decorative items lay knocked over.

"Alex?"
I call out louder, my heartbeat picking up and even though I knew my next movements were idiotic, I continue forward with careful steps - clutching the side of my dress skirt.
"Alex, are you alright?"

My hope for an awkward reply was not given.

No response or calling of my name before a swift 'sorry for scaring you' followed suit.
Only a distant rustling caught my attention, crunching gravel I almost missed and yet my question on if someone or something was actually back there was answered.

"Alex, this really isn't funny..." my whispered words were somewhat broken with the subtle fear that raised the hair on the back of my neck - and despite my cowardice, a part of me wanted a hand to grab my shoulder so I could turn around and see the male in question laughing at my startled state.

But once again it never came.

No warm hand.
No sudden surprise.

I near the corner, continuing forward with more timid steps than moments prior, my gaze cautious.

"Alex-" my word was choked, getting caught in my throat at the sight my eyes fell upon and my hand tightens around the sheer fabric - the air in my lungs all but nonexistent.