Watercolour

Twenty Two

Alana's P.O.V

I opened my eyes only to be blinded by the sunlight that had found its way through the small gap between the curtains. I buried my head back under the white sheets, not wanting to get out of bed yet. It took me another three minutes before I realised that my sheets weren't white and that this wasn't my room.

It was then that all the events of the night before came crashing back to my mind. I forced myself to sit up and felt a searing pain in my right shoulder.

"Shit," I said, knowing that I'd fucked up my shoulder again.

I scanned the room and saw Jace curled up, still asleep on the floor beside his bed. According to the clock on his bedroom wall, it was quarter past one so I decided that I'd leave him alone for now. I slowly dragged my body to the end of the bed and sat in front of the mirror.

I was still dressed in my black vest top and jeans but Jace had obviously taken off the shirt I was wearing over the top. I replaced my jeans with a pair of Jace tartan pyjama bottoms I found in his drawers and spent about 5 minutes taking my hair out of the braids before pushing it up into a messy bun and leaving the room to go downstairs. I poured myself a glass of water and crashed down onto the sofa. I didn't want to think about anything so I decided to switch on the TV to distract myself. I flicked through the channels for a while before finally stumbling upon Stewart Little; there was nothing much better on and it used to be one of my favourite films.

About 20 minutes into the film, Jace came downstairs and sat on the sofa next to me.

"Do you remember when you used to come over just so we could watch this together? We used to love it so much," he said as he handed me my phone. "You'll need to charge it. My charger should be down there."

He gestured towards the floor at my end of the sofa.

"Thanks," I said as I plugged in my phone and switched it on. The apple sign appeared on the screen and I put it on the table to charge.

I shuffled over to Jace and we sat and watched the film together. Every now and then one of our phones would ping and we'd see one of the others' name on the screen, but we'd just ignore it and keep our attention fixed on the TV.

This was exactly what I needed right now; I needed to just carry on as usual and forget about what had happened. And that's what I loved about Jace... how he knew that I wouldn't want to think about last night or any other time apart from now, so he just carried on as usual as well. Playing along with my act. We both knew that we'd have to talk about it at some point but we also knew that now wasn't that time.

Jace's P.O.V

All through the day, Alana had tried to hide it; wearing "smiles" almost as often as athe had before. In truth, they were only crude imitations of what she recalled a smile to be.

At about three she had gone upstairs to have a shower, so when she still hadn't come back down over an hour later, I went upstairs to find her.

"Al?" I called, slowly pushing the bathroom door open. The room was humid from her shower but empty so I crossed the hall and knocked on the door of my room.

"Al?" I repeated. There was no response but I could hear music playing faintly from the other side of the door and decided to go in anyway.

The first thing you see when you walk into my room is your reflection in the mirror. I looked over to the right of the mirror to see the reflection of Alana, lying curled up, on top of my bed.

"Alana," I called as I rushed over to the side of my bed and knelt down so I was at her level. I lifted her body slightly and pulled her into a hug that she accepted without hesitation. From the short glance I got of her face, I could see that her cheeks were red and stained with tears. As we continued our embrace, the sobs slowly began to fade into her shivering; even though I could feel how warm her body was.

I hadn't seen her like this in a long time; I don't even remember it being like this when she and Finn broke up about 2 years ago. She didn't want to cry. She just didn't. Alana saw herself as someone who didn't cry. But she couldn't ignore the exploding bout of emotions that were - as I understood them to be - confusion, exasperation, dread, and guilt; they needed a way to escape.

Alana meant so much to me, I couldn't just watch and let this happen. I had to be strong for her - just as she had been for me these past eleven years since mum had died.

"Speak to me Al. Let it all out."
"I just don't get it. I don't understand. I've tried and it's all come down to this," she croaked. "And my head's banging and my shoulder's killing me. I don't understand."
"Al, you're not to blame for any of this."
"Are you so sure about that though? I've forced him to harbour his emotions for however long now and then this happe-"
"I promise you, Al... none of this is down to you. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I'm trying not to be but when shit happens you automatically look for someone to blame but Alex is not that person; so it must be me. But I really don't know what to do."

"You are not in a good state to be trying to deal with this now. I suggest you take some painkillers, put some music on and try to get some sleep, okay?"

She nodded in response before pulling me into another hug.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, you know," she mumbled into my shoulder before letting go and burying herself under my duvet.

"I don't know what I'd do without you either."

Bit of a filler - sorry x