Lola & Alex [Slow updates]

Chapter 21: "Seven p.m. 3rd of October"

ALEXANDER'S POV

Lola bailed.

And made me look like a fucking goddamn fool in front of the people from our school at the carnival. I got a lot of curious stares and looks when I finally stood up from the bench with two Olaf candies in my hand and after scrolling mindlessly on my phone for over an hour, waiting for her to show up.

I threw them in the dustbin when it became apparent that she wasn't going to come.

After texting her continuously and calling her only to be reached to the voicemail, it was safe to say that I was a little concerned for what was happening.

Just a little.

But her behaviour at school was definitely suspicious and my anger abruptly paused for a minute while I waited at the station for the train to come.

Was this somehow related to her behaviour today?

Charlotte didn't explain anything to me either because she wasn't at home when I returned after school and texted her twice, and 'Patience' as the only response made it clear as glass that something was definitely wrong.

The important question was what was wrong with Lola?

But the more important question was why the fuck was I caring about what was wrong with Lola? I mean I shouldn't care about what she was going through or not given the amount of resentment I have for her.

Then why the fuck did I take a train for her house instead of mine?

Ignoring all the questions that my mind and subconscious asked from my actions, I waited -quite impatiently- in the train and before I knew it, I was standing in front of her house thirty minutes later.

The time was almost Seven p.m.

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I stood on the porch, ready to ring the doorbell when I heard faint music from inside. I twisted the doorknob, shocked to see that it was unlocked and went inside. After shutting it firmly and locking it this time, my ears followed the melody of the more prominently heard song coming from upstairs.

I frowned and made my way up towards Lola's, ready to give her a lecture about her poor memory.

But the scene before stunned me more than I could've imagined.

Lola was sitting on the rug playing her guitar, her voice echoing in the room like a soothing balm over a wound. She was in the midway of singing Taylor Swift's Willow and I thought briefly that maybe she heard me but whatever the case was, she didn't stop.

Her eyes were closed with slight fluttering every now and then, her blonde her in a messy bun atop her head. She was wearing comfortable clothes; tank top and sweatpants.

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark,

Show me the places where the others gave you scars.

I continued to watch her, suddenly feeling mesmerised. The melodic tint in her voice making a perfect pair with the way she changed the chords and strummed on the wooden guitar.

The more that you say, the less I know,

Wherever you stray, I follow.

Something broke and mended in me at the same time while watching the emotions she felt played out on her face. The frown replaced by the scowl which then got replaced with the twitching of her lips. I couldn't put a finger on what it was.

You know that my train can take you home

Anywhere else is hollow

I'm begging for you to take my hand,

Wreck my plans, that's my man.

She continued to strum and sing, lost in her own little world but eventually her fingers got tired and she started choking on the last few lyrics.

And then a single tear escaped from her closed eyes and it made my heart clench.

As though on instinct, I was instantly on my knees before her, my legs pressing against the hard oak floorboards. Lola was a sobbing mess in a matter of seconds, her face cupped in my hands, her cheeks and nose turning red and blotchy.

Never in a million years, I had imagined that one day I would be holding Lola in my arms while she cried against my chest yet here we were. With every sob that escaped out of her, I felt something weird and a shiver went down my spine.

She hiccupped, "This was our favourite song. He would make me play it and join me in during the singing part."

She screamed, "It would have been two fucking years today, two fucking years! Why did he do that me?" Lola cried harder than I had ever seen her as a baby and it made me remember how I felt during the first few days after the scandal.

She continued to weep, soaking my hoodie in tears and snot but I hardly cared about that. I tried to think of a way to calm her down while fighting against my own inner turmoil and the memories that flashed before my eyes.

I held her tighter and murmured in her hair because I didn't know how to console a broken person when I was a broken mess myself, "Don't cry, Lizard."

But she did and there was nothing I could to stop her besides remembering what the date it was that day.

3rd of October.

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soooo...that happened. 

it was intense and i loved writing every second of it. 

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