HEAT |OMEGAVERSE|

Losing you

Alex's arms loosen around me as he shifts in the bed, turning away. I sit up and yawn, rubbing at my eyes tiredly.

Ugh.

I still feel like garbage—not as achy as yesterday, but far from great. And to make matters worse, I need to have a talk with the sober version of Alex as soon as he wakes up.

I walk out of my room and into the bathroom. I take my daily pills with a small glass of water, then make my way to the kitchen. Despite my lack of energy, my growing appetite takes over, and I start cooking breakfast. I scramble some eggs while bacon sizzles in the pan beside them, and I pop a few slices of bread into the toaster. Out of habit I start separating the cooked food between two plates and set them on the island's counter-space—placing a fork on each.

"Wow, that smells good,"Alex chirps in a bright voice behind me, making me clutch my chest with one hand as a quick gasp escapes.

"Son of a bitch!" I exclaim turning towards him—glaring, eyes sharp. "Why can't you enter a room with some sort of distinction?"

"Sorry my bad." He walks over to the island taking a seat at one of the small stools, and grabs his plate of food. He goes to grip the fork with his right hand, and winces, dropping the fork to the plate.

"Hmp," I breathe out loud enough for Alex to hear, and he turns his head towards me.

His face looks puzzled, like he's not sure why his hand could be hurting, and I feel myself becoming agitated.

"Alex—"I pause.

"Yeah?" He replies, biting at his bottom lip.

"Do you remember why you came here last night?"

He quickly turns his attention to the plate of food in front of him, lazily poking his fork into an egg. "I'm—not entirely sure."

Oh really?

I narrow my eyes at him—my lips pressing into a thin line, "oh—so then you don't recall why your hand hurts either?"

"It doesn't—" Alex wiggles his fingers on his right hand, causing his sentence to be cut short by clenched teeth, his face twisting in pain.

I take a few steps closer, standing in front of him, "Alex—enough—you either remember what happened or you don't." My jaw clenches in frustration, "pick the hill you want to die on..." I scold, my voice taught as Alex's eyes meet mine. I can see emotions flicker through them as he gathers the words he wants to say, opening his mouth—then shutting it soon after.

"You're right, I'm so sorry—for everything...for coming over without telling you, for hitting your friend—" It looks like maybe it pains him to admit his faults, and even more so to apologize for them. "And—" his body dejects, those deep dark eyes glancing away from mine into a random direction, "I'm sorry for getting emotional...it—uh—it won't happen again."

Is that really why he looks so ashamed?

I gently grab ahold of Alex's chin, and drag his face back towards me, his features void of all emotion. "Alex," I whisper, my tone gentle and forgiving. His dark charming eyes meet mine, and I stare into them. "That's not what I want an apology for, it's okay to have emotions, it's okay to cry, to be angry, even to be frustrated or scared. Those are all things you never have to say sorry for, they are nothing short of being human." I take a deep breath and sigh, "but—it's not okay to communicate any of them with violence. Especially to drink like you did and then come here already pissed off."

I've already seen enough anger in my life, and the chaos that comes in its wake.

"Those are fair points," he mumbles, and my lips can't help but tug upward into a small sympathetic smile.