It was always easier, a General fanfic

Her alarm blinked two-thirteen in the morning. She felt the dizziness spread to her head and the pit drop from her stomach. Elizabeth was thirteen and all she could do was sink into the cool pillows and stare at the ceiling. She could almost feel his body beside her, but when she turned her head just a fracture the butterflies disappeared from her stomach and the dizziness flew away. And all she knew was that she wanted it back.

Fifteen. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, which felt as smooth as skin. She backed out of the parking space and turned left, driving down the autumn road. The wheel turned, perfect and seamless beneath her fingertips, the road stretched on. She reached for the radio and turned it on quietly, a rock station burning through the speakers. The words buzzed in her ears and she recognized the tune. It was one of his favorites. Elizabeth stopped the car at the light and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She was brought back to life when the car behind her honked and she pressed on the gas pedal, inching the car forward. These days, everything reminded her of him. Everything made her heart stop for a moment, and her breath catch in her throat. Each encounter made her stare for a moment longer, her lips formed into a small circle. When she closed her eyes she could almost see him.

Elizabeth had learned his name at thirteen, and never stopped whispering it since. Thomas Kennelly. But she’d always and only called him Mr.

She would pass his room every time she got the chance. Making excuses to drop off notes or to take the long way, to move through the sea of students to see him. She would smile and the feeling of walking on air would follow her down the hall, when he smiled back. Sixteen, each muscle in her body yearning for later. She wanted to be in love, but she didn’t know how to get it, so she settled for the next best thing; infatuation with something unobtainable. She could almost taste him.

Her heels clicked evenly across the floor, her dress gliding smoothly, pooling around her ankles so that she had to lift it up to keep from tripping. The black satin draped around her, falling over her body like an intricate nightgown. She knocked on the door, and it opened of its own accord. He sat, staring out the window, watching the rain beat the windows. She called his name and as he turned to look at her the world faltered for a moment, losing its step. She wanted to melt into the floor. He stared at her, the way she had always looked at him, light flashing in his eyes. Eighteen years, one for each breath of confusion.

She reached her bare arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. She whispered her gratitude. She could feel his broad shoulders beneath her fingers. Shock prickled underneath her skin and she stepped back. He said her name, breaking the silence and Elizabeth ran. She could feel each bone in her body move as she hiked her dress up to her knees and tore down the hall. She would not look back, she would not.

She turned around, Orpheus and Lot, her love turned to stone, to salt, to tears, brought back to hell. He stood in the doorway, waiting. He took a few steps towards her and she dropped the bundle of fabric from her hands; she could not breathe. She could hear the beeping of alarms going off in her head as he took another step, then another. He stood over her, his hands digging into his pockets. She stared up at him and all feeling left her. Her feet were numb, her legs felt like rubber and her arms refused to stop shaking. He smiled, and extended his hand.

She shook it, her hand fitting neatly into his. A quiet goodbye.

Elizabeth spun in her dress, down the hall, a black shadow in the night. Her hair toppled over her shoulders and she could almost feel his hand still holding hers, but only for a moment. With each step she took she could sense the memories dropping like flies from her heart.

Laughter and a smile. Catching his eye.

By the time she reached the door, tears were falling so heavily that they sounded like a symphony. When she reached for the door, all of her memories had gone. All she was left with was feeling, and she wanted the memory back.

She never wanted anything when she could get it handed to her on a silver platter.

She’d rather fight for it.