The Protector

Chapter 22

So, this is a chapter (obviously :P) and I hope you enjoy it!! :D ................... Okay, well read it, and if you think it was good (which I hope you do) please vote. And comment?? Thanks!!

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.ALEXANDER.

APRIL 4th 6:13PM . . .

            I dashed away from the gazebo, leaving Rose there alone. A part of me urged to go back there, to kiss her one more time, to feel her in my arms, to protect her. But that was the insane, psychotic part of my mind speaking, so I continued fleeing.

            When I was far enough, I leaned against the stone wall of Mr. Hamley’s house. The ivy twining in the stones rubbed my skin comfortingly. But they couldn’t help me erase the guilt, the pain, the . . . passion.

            I didn’t want to admit it, but when I’d kissed Rose, everything else went up in smoke. Nothing seemed real or important to me. All I wanted to do was kiss her over and over again. Even when she fought me, I still kissed her. I didn’t let her go. Oh, why didn’t I? And to make it worse, I ran away like a coward. My eyes tightened; I was not a coward . . . What was I saying? Of course I was!

            “Alexander, baby, you out here?” A voice I’d know anywhere asked.

            I clenched my haw, angry at myself. Guilt threatened to override my system. I pushed it away, not wanting to deal with it. Not now.

            “Here,” I said gruffly.

            Eliza followed the sound of my voice and found me, eyes closed, leaning against the wall tiredly. She gave my waist a light squeeze and rubbed my shoulder gently.

            “What’s wrong? Party boring the crap outta you?” she asked, trying to lighten the subject.

            I chuckled ruefully, trying to act my way through it. “No, I think it was something I ate. I just came out for some fresh air.”

            Eliza slapped my chest hard. I winced at the blow and opened my eyes. “What was that for?”

            She slapped me again. “Don’t lie to me. I know—”

            My spine stiffened. Had she seen Rose and I kiss?!

            I let out a sigh of relief and she ranted about how she knew me so well and that she wanted to know what was really going on.

            “I’m just . . . I don’t feel all that good right now,” I said.

            And it was all true. I didn’t feel good. In fact, I felt sick to the core. I had frickin’ kissed Rose while dated the girl of my dreams . . . Well, did I dream of Eliza? To think about it, I actually dreamed about Rose. Rose’s lips, Rose’s hair, Rose’s eyes . . . I mentally slapped myself. WHY WAS I THINKING ABOUT ROSE WHEN MY GIRLFRIEND WAS RIGHT HERE?! And really, WHY WAS I THINKING ABOUT ROSE PERIOD?! I was sick. I was a terrible, evil, sick person.

            Eliza’s eyebrows scrunched with concern. She was so cute when she was worried. Her eyes would brighten depressingly (don’t ask me how that’s possible, it just is) and her lips would form a tiny little pout.

            “Okay, let me go tell the ‘rents, and we’ll go home first,” she said, concern lacing her voice.

            I tapped her nose, trying to reassure her. “You’re so adorable when you’re worried.”