Between Us (Lams modern college AU)

Chapter Twelve:

John's POV 

 - Two months later -

 It was raining again—seemed like it always was these days. I stood in the doorway of our dorm room, staring at Alex as he sat at the desk, writing furiously in his journal. The silence between us had grown heavy, thick with things unsaid, emotions buried deep. Every time I opened my mouth, it felt like the words stuck in my throat, but I couldn't keep avoiding this. Not anymore.

"Alex," I said quietly, hoping he wouldn't hear the crack in my voice. "We need to talk."

He paused for a moment, his pen hovering over the page, but he didn't turn to face me. "About what?" His tone was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to keep calm. "About us."

Finally, he turned, his eyes dark with something I couldn't quite read—anger, frustration, maybe even fear. "What about us?"

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding against my ribs. "I feel like you've been pulling away, Alex. You're shutting me out, and I don't understand why."

He stood up abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. "I'm not pulling away, John. I'm just... dealing with things. You wouldn't understand."

My chest tightened. "You never give me the chance to understand! You're always in your head, always hiding. How am I supposed to help if you don't even let me in?"

Alex's jaw clenched, his hands trembling at his sides. "I don't need your help, John! I don't need anyone's help!"

The room felt smaller, like the walls were closing in. My voice rose, the frustration I'd been bottling up finally breaking free. "That's bullshit, Alex! You're hurting, and I can see it! But instead of letting me be there for you, you're pushing me away!"

Alex turned on me, his face twisted in anger and something deeper—something that looked a lot like pain. "What do you want from me, John? I'm not your responsibility! You don't have to fix me!"

"I'm not trying to fix you!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "I just want to love you! But you won't let me!"

His face fell at those words, and for a second, I thought I saw him soften, but then the wall went back up. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "You don't get it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't know what it's like."

I took a step closer, my heart aching at the distance between us, both physical and emotional. "Then tell me, Alex. Help me understand."

But instead of answering, Alex's eyes flickered with something dark and familiar—something I had seen before but never wanted to confront. He turned away, heading toward the bathroom without another word.

"Alex!" I called after him, panic rising in my chest. "Don't walk away from me!"

But he didn't stop. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me standing there, helpless.

Alexander's POV

I locked the door behind me, my heart racing, my hands shaking as I leaned over the sink. The pain inside was unbearable—like a storm raging in my chest, ripping me apart from the inside. Everything John said was true, but I couldn't face it. I couldn't let him see me like this.

I slid down to the floor, my back against the door, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I couldn't handle it anymore. I was drowning, and no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't let John save me. He didn't deserve to carry my weight.

My eyes fell to the razor blade sitting on the counter, gleaming under the harsh bathroom light. I hadn't touched it in months, not since John came into my life. But the pull was stronger now than it had ever been. The only way I knew how to quiet the chaos in my mind was through the sting of pain, the release that came with it.

I reached for it, my hands trembling as I clutched the cold metal. My heart pounded in my ears, every second feeling like a lifetime as I stared down at it, battling with myself. Part of me wanted to stop—wanted to call out to John, to let him help. But the other part... the other part wanted the pain to end.

Tears blurred my vision as I brought the blade to my skin, pressing it against the inside of my wrist, the familiar burn bringing a momentary sense of relief. But the relief was fleeting, swallowed by the overwhelming shame that followed. I hated this. I hated that I couldn't be normal, couldn't be what John needed me to be.

A sob broke free from my chest, and before I could stop it, I was crying—really crying, the kind of tears I hadn't let myself shed in years. I let the razor fall from my fingers, clattering to the floor as I buried my face in my hands, my whole body shaking with the force of my grief.

John's POV

I stood outside the bathroom door, my heart pounding as I heard Alex's sobs from the other side. Panic surged through me, and without thinking, I pounded on the door. "Alex! Open the door! Please!"

There was no answer, just the sound of his cries getting louder, more broken. I couldn't stand it anymore—I couldn't stand the thought of him hurting himself.

I grabbed the doorknob, twisting it, but it wouldn't budge. "Alex!" I shouted, my voice breaking. "Please! Just talk to me! I love you! Please don't do this!"

I heard a soft click, and suddenly the door was open. Alex was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his face pale and tear-streaked. His eyes were red, swollen from crying, and when he looked up at me, I felt my heart shatter.

I fell to my knees in front of him, my hands reaching for his. His wrist was bleeding, but it wasn't deep. Still, the sight of it made my stomach turn. I grabbed a towel, pressing it gently to the cut as I looked into his eyes.

"Why, Alex?" I whispered, tears filling my own eyes. "Why didn't you come to me?"

He shook his head, more tears spilling down his cheeks. "I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't want to burden you."

I let out a broken laugh, the sound of it catching in my throat. "You're not a burden, Alex. You could never be a burden. I love you. I love all of you, even the parts you think are broken."

Alex's face crumpled, and he fell into my arms, sobbing against my chest. I held him as tightly as I could, tears streaming down my face as I rocked him back and forth.

"I'm sorry," he kept whispering, over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I whispered back, my voice hoarse with emotion. "You're not alone anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

A/N: Dear lord, I hate my writing style so much. None of these chapters even connect. 

- Lamsiscannon