Demigod x Reader

Alex x Reader // I Love You // Request

For MarvelLove4ever

The person who requested this explained how nervous they were about requesting a story so I decided to make this a little extra special for you.

I put a lot of effort into this, and is longer than my usual stories.

I apologize for the long wait my friends.

Hope you enjoy.

-

"Alex?" You asked, forcing your voice not to crack when you saw her, there, sitting in the corner, crying, simply just sobbing.

Your heart broke into two pieces when you saw the green-haired person.

She looked up at you, her eyes watering with cheek-stained cheeks, mascara slightly running down her red face.

You carefully approached her, lacing your hands with her's.

She hiccuped and spoke your name, "(Y/N) please . . ." She said.

You always thought of Alex as this strong girl who's motto was like that song, what was it called? Big Girls Don't Cry or something along the lines of that.

You never saw her in this state—so fragile, just like the shards of hardened clay littered about on the floor from Alex's panic attack before.

It was strange to say that—seen as you've been dating for about four years now, you thought you were able to read her like a book, but you don't know what caused this.

You embraced her tightly, she clutched onto you like you were dangling off a cliff, and you were the only one keeping her from the drop.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

You're both falling—down that hole, dragged down by wretched emotions and tears that tangled around your limbs.

And it hurt.

It hurt that you couldn't do anything but fall with her, you couldn't sprout wings and fly you back to the top—she'd have to sprout those wings—you just had to there to give confidence to succeed.

That's what comes with dating.

People have to understand, leaving someone in the worst of time—whether you love them or hate them, you can't do that—you wouldn't like it if they did it to you.

Talking from personal experience, you fellow readers don't know how many times (Y/N) has messed up in the past while Alex and yours relationship was still young and blossoming.

"Alex" came your voice.

"Come in" came a dead voice, that voice wasn't full of anything, it lacked all the emotion it was suppose to withhold.

Strange.

You walked in what you saw, killed you—again.

Not literally of course.

Alex, sitting in the corner, staring dead at the wall—emotionlessly, like she gave up, and I couldn't stand it.

You could tell, she was trying to be strong, trying not to crying, because after all; big girls don't cry.

Yet you ran to her, asking what was wrong.

He—yes he, you could sense it once you got close to him, wiped away his tears and mumbled, "parents."