BLACK ROSE

A million times better

Ashley. 

I yank myself awake, thinking I'm hallucinating.

I let my eyes adjust to the dark and try to separate my dream from reality. No ringing echoes through my ears again, but a strong feeling grows in my chest that it wasn't a dream.

Someone rang the bell at.... at three in the morning.

I sit on the edge of my bed, feet on the floor, and contemplating if I should see who's disturbing my sleep at this hour. It crosses my mind to just go back to sleep, but the strange feeling grows stronger in my chest.

Groaning, I eventually get up, allow myself one quick minute in front of the mirror and wash my face with icy water. It doesn't really work any magic at waking me up. In just my pyjamas and a messy bun I lazily make my way down the stairs.

I finally use the camera at our door, only to spot a very familiar silhouette in the dark. The vague light attached to our door isn't providing me with enough light source to identify the culprit behind the disturbance of my night sleep with certainty. Though the unclear outline of the silhouette is just enough for me.

I open the door to reveal a beaten up Alex.

If it wasn't for the stronger light in our entrance, I wouldn't notice half of his bruises.

My eyes widen and my mouth falls wide open in an O shape. He's not smiling or smirking, he's simply staring at me with a simple request. I'd be much relieved if that damn mischievous and devilish smirk of his would be coating his face.

I take in all the blue details created on his face. A blue left eye, a broken nose and eyebrow. Dried blood in the corner of his broken eyebrow, yet some small drops runs down his face. His upper lip is bruised and broken, covered in blood too. I wonder what bruises he's hiding under his clothes.

Incapable of moving a muscle, Alex takes my silence as an invitation and walks inside. I bring myself back to reality, locking the door and thanking my father for being away. I never thought I'd be thankful for his absence.

One look at Alex and I'm back to my senses. He's ignoring me, though, and his evident bruises and pain too. Instead he's looking around, studying the place in great detail.

"Alex," I say.

"You have a lovely house," he ignores me. I wonder if it's because of the adrenaline or just his typical cockiness. "Pretty much lived up to the image I had in my head."

"Alex!" I manage to choke out of me, more sternly and loudly this time. "What the hell happened to you?"

I take a step closer to him. His eyes linger on mine. Are they trying to convert a message I'm not deciphering correctly?

When I realise he won't answer me, I take his hand angrily and guide the way up the stairs to my bathroom.

I drag him through my room, a little too fast for his pace and earn a few painful groans from him. In the bathroom I make him sit on a small chair I've never used. It has been put away in the corner since we moved here, it's the first time I've even touched it.

"What happened to you?" I repeat my previous question, gathering all the necessary supplies. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time. "Who did this?"

"Are you going to avenge me, angel?"

I turn to face him, annoyance boiling in me. "How can you be so calm and joke now?"

"I liked the idea of you avenging me." He leans a little back and shows me his overconfident smirk. Now it works no magic on me.