close to my dialling heart

52🌹what love looks like

🎶you came into my crazy world like a cool and cleansing wave. Before I, I knew what hwat me, baby you were flowing through my veins🎶
                          ~Avicii~
XAVIER 🥀

"His injuries are not that severe, so he will be released soon and then transferred to jail," Doctor Curtis explained to me.

I turned my gaze to Mr. Axel, who was watching me with a mix of fear and defiance in his eyes. Despite his attempt to maintain a façade of bravado, the fear was unmistakable, and that was exactly what I wanted to see. I had come to the hospital to check on his condition, and now that he had survived, I was determined to finish what I had started.

His hand was cuffed to the hospital bed, and two police officers stood guard outside the room. The sense of inevitability hung heavy in the air.

"When will he be released?" I asked the doctor, keeping my gaze fixed on Mr. Axel. I needed him to feel the weight of his continued danger.

"Tonight, after he completes his last tests. The rest will be handled in prison," Doctor Curtis replied, and I nodded. "Excuse me." He then left the room.

I let out a mocking laugh, observing Mr. Axel in his vulnerable state. Just the day before, he had glared at me with such hostility. "I thought Noelle warned you," I said with a chuckle. "She’s your friend, isn’t she? Surely, she must have told you about me. You even used your position to threaten my girl. Are you out of your mind?"

"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear.

"A brat. A spoiled kid who depends on his parents. Dove's boyfriend who you think will eventually leave her," I listed, using the very names he had called me while trying to force himself on Dove. "I've killed many for far less, and you think I’ll spare you after what you did to my girl?"

Before I could leave, a woman walked in, her steps quick and determined. She was pregnant. "Honey..." Her voice was soft as she rushed toward Axel, making my brows furrow in confusion. She was young, with blonde hair and two small heart tattoos on her chest. So, the bastard was married—with a beautiful wife—and yet he still chose to do that. What a piece of shit.

...

Under the cover of night, I made my way to the police station where Axel was being held. Disguised as a police officer, I slipped through the corridors with a determined purpose. His cell stood at the far end, isolated and unguarded. The sound of the key turning in the lock startled him awake. As I removed the police cape, his eyes widened in recognition, and he froze, staring at the rope coiled in my hand. Panic set in, and he dropped to his knees, trembling. "Please, spare me... I didn’t know what came over me." His voice quivered, the desperation evident even through the layers of bandages and plasters that still clung to his battered face.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I passed the rope through the bars of the small window. Axel, in a desperate attempt to escape, lunged at me, his hands grasping for the keys. But he was too weak, too broken to put up any real fight. With a swift push, he collapsed to the ground, his head striking the metal bed frame. The impact rendered him unconscious for a brief moment, buying me precious time. I knew it wouldn’t last long. Quickly, I shoved the bed closer to the window and hoisted his limp body over my shoulder. Climbing onto the bed, I positioned him against the wall beneath the window, securing the rope tightly around his neck. Just as his eyes fluttered open, I pulled the bed away, leaving him suspended in the air, his feet dangling helplessly.

“No, don’t do this.” Axel's voice trembled as he shook his head, desperately clawing at the rope around his neck. “My wife is pregnant, please.” I watched, unfazed, as he struggled to free himself. His hands gripped the bars on the window, but his strength quickly waned. “Let me live, you piece of shit,” he growled, though his voice was barely more than a rasp, choked by the tightening rope. He gasped for air, each breath more labored than the last. “Please… my wife…” He kept repeating it like a mantra, clinging to that excuse as if it could save him.