Monster

chapter nine - break

"we all bend, and eventually, when we can't take it anymore, we break."

Alpha Xavier's POV

I didn't know what had taken over me, when those words came out of my mouth. I had no control whatsoever over my body, over what the heck I was doing. My body moved to it's own consensus, spontaneously and in perfect unison. The only thing that was wrong? The fact that I had no form of constraint when it came to the teratoid perception of mine. 

I could still see the visible sadness in her eyes, the way they bluntly stayed dull, even when she laughed. I guess, it's easy to smile when there's something worth smiling over. But judging by those bruises and scars all over her skin, she probably hasn't had the best life. The vociferant brute reigning in my self-control left me with riddance of my own sense of right and wrong. 

I never felt this curious towards someone before; a weird feeling I had never encountered. Though my heart threatened to break apart at the sutures when I saw the anguish and distress strewn across her face, I shoved the feeling away, trying my absolute best to mend the open wound of my still beating heart. 

In the back of my thoughts, I always contemplated on how it would feel to be happy, to be completely void of discordance, how it would feel like to finally be in complete solitude. However, there was a major plight in that thought. I never believed in happiness; it makes you weak. It weakens your heart, a soft spot for your enemies to exploit and manoeuvre. It would all be in their hands, and I just couldn't take the precariousness, the riskiness of how everything would turn out. 

It was an uncanny, eccentric feeling, when I saw those scars inflicted on her skin; whether it was done by herself or by others. I felt a sense of an unidentifiable emotion washing over me, an indication that I should have protected her from the dangers outside. It was like I felt overprotective over her, and felt a feral, vicious feeling to rip out the throats of anyone that laid a hand on her. 

Ironic isn't it? Because I'm basically a hypocrite then. I've hurt her before, and after every word I've said to her, I would feel guilty. But I did it anyways. I prolonged the damage to her, even when I knew that I would hurt myself in the process. Misfortune and wretchedness of destiny brought us together miraculously, but I knew that I couldn't feel any feelings of compassion or predilection. She was meant to be my betrothed, but it would be more of a blight than anything else. 

But it's too late isn't it? When you've done something wrong, it's not like you can turn back time and correct the mistakes made. We have to live with it for the rest of our life, and of course, I felt a tinge of guilt, whenever she flinched away from me. It was what had to be done. It was what I thought had to be done. 

The doctor had pulled me aside to say, "Alpha, her condition is rather...serious. Physically, she is...stable, so to say, but I fear for her mental health. Her whole body is covered by scars. Her back, her arms, legs, her stomach, all remains of whatever harm that has been done. Without any recovery for her mental health, she won't have long left to live."

Those words were like a serrated knife cutting through my stomach, and my heart dropped, and lurched forward. Tautness suspended discernibly in the atmosphere as the doctor stared intently at me, as if he expected me to do something. Letting the visor conceal my true expression, I stonily scowled at him, as he hurried away, the constant sound of his footsteps declining once he disappeared from my line of sight. 

Exhaling a sigh of ease, I let my shoulders relax, leaning my forehead against the brisk, solid surface of the wall, closing my eyes. I knew I shouldn't care, because she'll make me weak, but the bond still existed. Inhaling and exhaling again and again, trying to calm down, I put my weight on the wall, my knees feeling incapacitated, as if they were going to buckle any second from now.