Um... Becky... why am I not wearing pants?
-Sam Winchester. (Spread dat self love shit like wildfire mkay.)
That damn alarm is what woke me. Six fifteen, every day. I reached over to hit the snooze button, but found I wasn't reaching for my own clock. Had I fallen asleep in Alex's bed? Oh well.
I stood and half walked/ drunk stumbled to the source of the noise. That is when I realized two things: 1. I was not wearing pants, and 2. I liked the breeze.
I almost yelped. Almost. But Alex was sleeping and that is what people call rude. And traitorous. Friends don't wake friends up until fifteen minutes before class. I only woke up because I'm a light sleeper.
Oh right. According to my below the belt, last night hadn't been something friends do. What did we do? Each other.
Well hot damn. Literally. Okay no more jokes I swear.
I showered, got dressed, and then played on my phone. Only at 7:40 did I dare shake Alex awake. "Noooo." They groaned. Well, it was more like "Nuuuu."
"Alex. Get up. We have to go to class. And you need clothes."
"Mm?" They sat up. Oh. Oh. Alex smirked. "Morning wood, huh?"
"Shut up and get dressed."
Alex pulled on a shirt and some jeans and attempted to tame the lion's mane that was their hair but only made it worse.
"Alex the Lion!" I grinned. Then rubbed my cheek. "It was called for after the morning wood comment."
"Yeah but mine was funny." Alex whined.
"So was mine."
Hell loomed over us. An ugly shade of mixed eggs, it had the university's policy on it in an even uglier shade of brick red: Excellence is achieved through the want of excellence. But it was a little hard to read after all the graffiti. It was practically a rite of passage. If you wanted to survive, you spraypainted the building.
I remember when I was a freshman. Alex and I could hardly remember each other's names, let alone sweet spots. But I digress. I was with some old high school friends, and I had the one color no amount of paint covers up: black.
Yeah, it seems unoriginal. But every other color was pink, orange, or green. Black would cover it all.
I had the perfect phrase.
By the time I was done, the building said, "Sexcellence is achieved through the want of sex."
People were whispering. The teachers demanded to know. The thing is, they already said whoever did it would got expelled. Uh, no.
Everyone knew it was me. My dumb friends told people. Teachers didn't suspect a thing. I turned my homework in. I had an outstanding average.
Ha.
It was eventually painted over, of course. But there was still the faint outline of my legacy.
Come to think of it, that was the best time I had in college. Living a little. Being dangerous. Doing something that was 100% worth the risk.
I was so deep into reminiscing I didn't notice Alex kiss me until we were just in the middle of the hall, making out.
Ladies and gentlemen, both of the aforementioned and neither, you all know I am aromantic. This is that part in the book where something big happens.
No, I didn't realize I was suddenly gaga for Alex. That is both stupid and cliche.
In fact, I felt nothing during the whole seven and a half seconds that kiss lasted. This kiss wasn't the big thing.
What happened next was.
I had heard such an angry tone of voice on only one occasion, and on that occasion I was dead.
"Damien Adam! You son of a bitch!" Wow. My dead subconscious was one hell of a future predictor. I should die more often. Maybe I could get the lottery numbers.
Beth grabbed me by my ear. Alex stood, silent. And I knew. I knew they were having a panic attack. Their breathing sped up and they clutched their stomach as if it had suddenly twisted in knots.
I was so preoccupied worrying about Alex that the first punch came at me before I knew it. Right in my gut.
I sank to the ground, breathing heavily. "Beth. Why are you even here?"
"Because I thought I could catch you before class! So I come and you're hooking up with that slut? You manwhore!"
People crowded around, watching and cheering. I saw Alex in the corner of my eye. On the ground. See, Alex's panic attacks were so bad sometimes they needed help standing.
I crawled over to Alex. "Hey. It's okay. That paintbrush thing. Picture it."
Beth stomped on my back and then turned to Alex. "Get up, whore. Playing dead won't get you anywhere." Beth's back was too me. I stood, very slowly, very quietly. Beth was still making a speech, calling Alex names, occasionally kicking Alex's ribs, etc. Alex had already passed out, either from the attack or the breath getting knocked out of her. Probably both.
I stood about five inches away from Beth. I could kill her if need be. I could punch her in the head. I could punch her anywhere. Months of pent up rage.
I swung my leg out, and watched as Beth fell. She landed on her ass, and not just her ego. I grabbed Alex. Good pulse.
Fuck class. Fuck Beth. I had someone I needed to take care of.
"Hold her off for ten minutes." I told the crowd. Everyone moved in. See, remember my legacy? The spraypaint? Well everyone kind of respected me because of it. So the crowd rushed to help.
Alex laid in bed for about thirty minutes. Then, from my side of the room where I was trying to distract myself, I heard them.
"Damien?"
I dropped my CD. "Alex! Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Why?" They sat up. "I'm in the dorm. You... oh."
"Oh God. I'm so sorry." Yes, I realize it wasn't my fault. But I should have been less focused on me.
Alex turned and fell. Their legs. They didn't move their legs. Alex moved them manually, then tried to stand.
On the floor, Alex's eyes widened with fear. "I can't feel my legs."
Well then. That took a totally different turn.
Kisses,
Satan, (But Should I Write a Soulmate AU,) Lord of Feels.
