The End. (Part 1)

Chapter 6

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I stirred, There is just something about sleeping in comfortable arms, comfortable arms?

my eyelids fluttering open, I was disoriented—a traveler returning from a distant dream or lack of dreams.

I heard Alexzavier's voice, a soothing murmur. His fingers brush my forehead, and the stray strand of my hair danced in response. His words—unexpected, tender I assumed but my brain didn't bother to comprehend but instead prayed for more sleep just 5 minutes more.

"Alexzavier?" I whispers, my voice flowed out covered in a blend of sleep and curiosity. I blinked my brain waking full I was surprised I staired up at him, I search his eyes for an explanation "What—" I muttered scrabbling to my feet and taking a seat on the floor.

The nurse's office cradled us in its quiet corner—a sanctuary for the weary and the wounded. Alexzavier took a seat beside me. I drew my my feet up and rested my head on my knees. Looking over at him watching a million thoughts run across his face.

Outside, the world carried on—students rushing to classes, laughter echoing through hallways, the pulse of life in full swing. But here, within these four walls, we were suspended.

Eventually Alexzavier's gaze held mine, and I wondered what secrets he saw—the hidden fractures, the invisible bruises. His lips curved into a half-smile, a lifeline thrown across the chasm of uncertainty. His voice, when it came, was a balm to my frayed nerves.

"You fell asleep in English," he said, his words both accusation and absolution. His blue eyes, deeper than any ocean, searched my face. "Why?"

I leaned my head against the wall, feeling the coolness seep through my skull. "I don't know," I confessed. "Maybe the weight of words became too much."

He chuckled, a low sound that resonated in the stillness. "Be real with me, something is obviously wrong you have been off ever since—"

"Life gets complicated" I ran my fingers against the fading scars on my wrists.

I didn't know how to tell him about my grandfather, he hated mom and I with a passion. All week we had been fixing everything to his preference but nothing was good enough. Last night was especially harrowing. He had slammed mom in to the wall and threw a wine glass at her. He was psycho, it was enough that I had problems at school. April and her shenanigans and know I had roped Alexzavier into my mess it was like junior year. just ten times worst...

"That's it" Alexzavier questioned gripping my hand away from rubbing my wrist effectively ripping me away from my thoughts.

"Yeah, no feelings remember" I said biting my cheeks and turning my face away from him.

"No don't do this to me" he said from behind me. I couldn't decipher what emotions laced but the next thing I know i was on his lap face to face with blazing blue eyes and lucious black curly.

"Alexzavier, let me go" I gritted why couldn't he understand I was trying to protect him from me.

"No" He said simply as if it was the most obvious response. He looked down at my lips. And i could only fix my eyes on his. But he was relentless, shifting closer until our breaths mingled. His lips hovered over mine, a whisper of temptation. "I won't let you push me away," he vowed.

I'm so dumb. my mind screamed at me.

In the quiet of that room, our lips met—a collision of longing and uncertainty. Time blurred, and I tasted the bittersweetness of forbidden fruit. But reality crashed back, a tidal wave of memory:

April's birthday party, the room adorned with fairy lights and laughter. Her eyes, venomous, accusing. "You," she spat. "I'll ruin you, just like my father ruined your sorry excuse of a father."

Alexzavier," I whispered, my voice a fragile thread.

He leaned closer as though my words hypnotized him, his breath brushing my lips. "Yes" he hummed in response.

For a moment, the world ceased to exist, and it was just us—a girl with fading scars and a boy who refused to let her drown.

But then reality surged back—the shards of April's accusation, the weight of my grandfather's hatred, the fragility of maintaining some amount of sanity I clung to. I pulled away, my heart aching.

"I can't," I confessed. "I'll ruin you."

His thumb brushed my cheek, gentle yet insistent. And for a moment my worries melted away. 

Special emphasis for a moment because pure bliss like this never lasts.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Life isn't a linear journey. Sometimes it's one step backwards, two steps forward and then a jump out to the side. It's kind of like the "Time Warp", when you think about it." ~ Karina Halle

"Sometimes in life, things don't go as planned," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His appearance matched his words—ragged, dejected, dirt-streaked, and reeking of despair.

"Told who?" I asked, my hands remaining closed across my chest. His eyes teared up, as if the mere thought of mentioning this person would tear him apart.

"My wife," he confessed, the syllables etched in regret. "My daughter." The words rushed forth, parched and desperate.

He was truly desperate to have come all this way.

"You embezzled millions from the guy," I stated matter-of-factly, my gaze unyielding. I watched as he cringed at the truth I uttered.

"It is very unwise," I continued, my voice a low hum, "that you come seeking help from me." I eyed his car parked outside; he knew the consequences if he were to return to this life. His hazel eyes screwed shut as tears traced down his dirt-covered face.

"This world," I emphasized, "in which you once lived, is no life Melissa should have to be involved in." Rising, I retrieved two drink glasses from the cabinet. I poured us both a drink of scotch.

I poured two glasses of scotch, the amber liquid swirling like memories. He took the glass, fingers trembling, and raised it to his lips. The burn of alcohol couldn't erase the guilt etched into his features.

'Damn it, Carter.' I thought 'Damn it.'

A/N: Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm okayyyyyyy. 

Under editing, work in progress... 🪨⚒️

Word Count: 1000+ words.