Chapter Ten

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Alec:

Thursday, May 16th

"Oh, this is going to be fine. Yeah, it's going to be fine. Just going to talk to Remi, no need to worry," I mumble to myself while I walk up to our apartment. Luckily there's no one else around to hear me, so I can ramble to my hearts' content. But it's not like rambling or talking to myself is really going to help much right now. To put it bluntly, Remi and I haven't really talked to each other or even spent much time together since the fight, which has been three days ago. We've kind of just been avoiding each other and sitting in awkward silence whenever we do have to spend time together.

"But that's going to stop now, 'cause I'm going to talk to him." I tried doing it about a day ago but it was shitty; I got a few words out before I bolted and 'hid' in our room until he went out for a jog. But we can't just keep nursing our wounds and keep avoiding each other and the whole fight thing; we have to talk to each other. It's going to help us move past this whole thing and hopefully avoid doing it again in the future. "So I just have to talk to him, that's easy," I mumble to myself as I get to the floor right below ours. It's not going to be that hard, it's talking about what's happening like we've always done. But God it feels so hard.

I haven't really even thought of what I'm going to say and I don't even know if Remi wants to talk. I kind of just assumed that he was getting as tired of the silence as I was but that could totally not be the case. He's probably enjoying me not constantly harping about how horrible my day's been and how I need him to comfort me. "But we still need to talk, even if I'm not ready," I tell myself as I start climbing the stairs to our apartment, clutching the little stuffie I bought Remi in my hand. I bought it for him as a sort of peace offering to make this whole thing easier and maybe a little less awkward. It's not much, just a stuffed narwhal I bought at a Goodwill a few blocks from the bakery. But it's better than nothing. At least it might make him a little less distant and brighten the mood, God knows it would help.

"Ok, this is it." I'm just a few yards from our door now, the sound of my heart beating so loud in my that it sounds like a drum being hit inside them. Okay, just calm down; this isn't any different than what you've done before. Yeah, this is going to be just like every other time we talked about our problems, so there's no reason to be worried. All I have to do is talk about the fight, how it upset me and everything, why Katrina's jabs hurt so much, and then boom! We're done.

"Yeah that's it, I can do that," I whisper to myself as I walk over to our door and pull my key out of my pocket. It's a little hard to get it into the keyhole since my hands are kind of shaking but I manage to get it in after a couple of tries. I push open the door, the sound of it creaking the only sound in the apartment weirdly, and then gently shut it and lock it. I slip off my shoes and set them on the shoe rack, the apartment's weird silence starting to get a little creepy. "Hey Remi?" I call out to him, him being home seeming kind of doubtful 'cause of how quiet the apartment is. Is he out for another jog or something? "I'm home."

I walk out of the hallway and then see him when I get a few feet away from the couch, tucked between it and the wall writing in his notebook. Wonder why he sat there? It's usually pretty gross. Maybe he wanted some privacy? Seems like a weird place to get it though. But forget that, I have to talk to him, that's the whole reason I decided to do this. He glances up from his notebook, probably going to look at the clock, and jolts when he sees me. "Oh, hey Alec." He awkwardly gets up from his little corner and then sits down on the couch, setting his journal on the coffee table. "Didn't hear you come in. So, uh, how're you doing?" he asks while avoiding looking at me or anywhere near me.

I set the little narwhal on the coffee table and then gently sit down on the couch next to him, pretending not to notice when he scoots away from me. "Uh, good," I glance at him and give him what hopefully looks like a smile," I was wondering if you wanted to talk." My voice comes out a lot less confident than it sounded in my head and my nervousness doesn't seem to have slipped by Remi. He scoots a little bit closer to me, just enough for our knees to brush, and asks in his gorgeous, angelic voice," Talk about what?" Oh God, he's beautiful. We've been spending so much time apart since the fight, him even sleeping on the couch, that I started to forget how fucking gorgeous he is. Like some flawless, Asian statue sculpted by Michelangelo or a God, he's so fucking beautiful.

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