The Walter Boys Assistant

Chapter 11: Stormy Night

"It's different with her. You know? You're (y/n)."

Those words play in your mind over and over again. With each step you trek down towards the front door, the louder it gets. You have to admit, you're not ready to speak with Alex so soon after. You still feel that you need time to think more over and find what the best way to address your feelings is. Yet, sometimes, fate has a different card to play. Fate being Alex, it seems.

Things were never this difficult when you were younger. You rarely struggled with your feelings for Alex because you were the only one he saw. Well, you and Kiley. The dynamic trio. Like Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Or Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Grover Underwood.

You notice a pattern in all of these typical fantasy heroes. There's always a couple that sprouts from them. Sure, this is real life and not some fantasy. You aren't on a mythical quest to save the world. Yet, the comparisons are uncanny and hard to deny.

Upon reaching the door, your hand finds your chest, as though to grab ahold of your own heart to slow it down. The beat is sporadic and you can feel every motion in your head; hear it in your ears. You shouldn't be so scared to see someone you always love to see... But you are. Because when you try to question why you are so upset with him, those damn words replay over and over again, just to remind you of the pain.

"(Y/n)," Kiley calls from behind you, "open the door."

She's being supportive, you know that. You can't avoid this boy forever. Especially since you're living in his house and also have become his assistant for the summer. It's best to rip off the band-aid as soon as possible to get back to whatever the new normal is for you two.

Kiley watches from the top of the stairs, preparing herself to have to take charge and greet Alex herself. Just as she motions to make her way down, you grab the handle and swiftly open the door. Cold air rushes in from outside, the magnificent scent of fresh rain striking your nose. You inhale the comforting scent before opening your eyes and find Alex standing directly in the doorway.

The warm light of the LED lanterns hanging along each side of the doorway illuminate his features beautifully. It shows that his hair is slightly damp, those curls taking advantage of the moisture. Those same curls you've dreamt of running your fingers through time and time again.

Sweat is noticeably dribbling from his temples, running races along his jawline before finally dropping off onto his blue hoodie. His cheeks are flushed beneath those constellations of his, evident he is overheated.

"How did you get here?" Your first words come out gentler than you expect them to, which you find isn't such a horrible thing. You don't want to be angry with him.

Alex's chest rises and falls with ragged breathing and he clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck before looking back and your eyes trail off to find his black bike laying out on the bedrock along the sidewalk leading up to the porch steps.

"I dug out my old bike," he answers while returning his attention to you, "it started raining halfway into the ride."

You didn't even notice when it started raining. You were so caught up in the game with Kiley, that you lost track of that. So much so, you recognize it's dark out. All street lights cascading a magnificent glow down upon the street below. Did he truly ride all the way here in the rain and the dark?

"You shouldn't have come-"

"No, I should have, (y/n)," Alex speaks, stepping forward. His boots cause the wood beneath his weight to squeak at the motion, "because I realize what I said was really dumb. And I have to explain to you that it came out wrong."