f a m i l i a r i t y. - [fierrochase]

eighteen 🐍

ALEX ;

     Alex wanted to die.

    Okay, maybe not die. But maybe be swallowed whole by the ground. Honestly, she wouldn't mind if any demon from under the earth would pop right under her bed and say: Hey ya lil' devil! Care for some suffering? Or maybe if the grim reaper actually came to visit her and told her: It's time. She would've been glad to come.

     What was she thinking? Closing her eyes? Enjoying the fantasy? She found her hand caressing her lips again—like a flippin' high school girl who got kissed by her senpai or something. Feminine or masculine, the thought of being lovesick made Alex, well, sick. She hated this more than anything, being confused, keeping all these without anything to vent it out with.

     That night, Magnus had freed her from his grasp with an awkward look on his face. And she was speechless, she didn't want to assume anything about the kiss—she didn't want to think he kissed her because he liked her as much as she liked him. But then again, she didn't want to think of anything. She didn't want to think about the kiss and how magical it was.

     Yeah. Magnus wasn't exactly the definition of magical [actually, he is.] but that time when his lips touched Alex's—that was magical. His lips may have been slightly chapped, but it was still as soft as how Alex would see it. And it was proven that time, that heck yes, Magnus Chase's lips were the softest. Kissing him was like someone was taking her breath away, like someone was pulling on the chord of what was Alex's will to guard her feelings.

     Alex hated feeling like this. Falling in love, then having her heart broken. She had been through so much heartbreak that she didn't want to fall in love anymore. But with Magnus, it was impossible not to.

    Magnus Chase is one of the most fantastic guys in the world, for Alex. He was poetic, wrote stories with some other book authors. For all Alex knew, his name would've been printed over a book cover with bold letters and a fancy font. He was a nerd—that she would've fallen for despite his geeky side. He had blond hair styled like Kurt Cobain's, which she would laugh about in many days they spent together. He was very awkward, it was like his whole life had been awkward ever since he was born. But those traits never mattered to Alex, those traits were the reason Alex had fallen. She loved Magnus' laughs, his smiles. She loved Magnus' awkwardness, she loved his poetic side. She loved Magnus' eyes, his nose, his body—everything. She loved everything about the boy that sometimes, sometimes she needed time for herself to think about it.

    That night, Alex had ran away. She escaped like how Cinderella had ran off from her Prince Charming—but this wasn't a fairy tail, there was no glass slipper or pumpkin carriages. This was the real life, a real problem—and Alex had ran away from it, in hopes she would hide her feelings without letting Magnus know about how she would feel. Because she was afraid. She was afraid of being broken again that somehow, somehow she wanted to run away from the feelings. Shove it all down her gut, and never feel it again. She wanted to feel numb, not ignited with such feelings that only succumbed to her worsts. She wanted to feel more confident that somehow, in her lifetime, love wouldn't hurt her.

     She had locked herself in her room, windows closed and all that. Magnus hadn't tried talking to her, but that was better than being faced with him too early. She needed time to evaluate her feelings, she needed time to think—whether to cease or continue. She did that for three days, she didn't try talking to Magnus, she would always avoid her kitchen and dine in the café across the street. Sometimes, she would see Magnus riding his bike and leaning it against those metal things for bikes just at the gap of their buildings. And she would look at him and watch him do his usual chores by himself.

     And she had hated looking at Magnus those days. His eyes were sunken with dark circles, his hair was messy, and he didn't bother tying it in a bun. He was a mess, wearing only a shirt and jeans despite the cold, winter air. Alex blamed herself for all that Magnus was today. Maybe he was stressed about Alex's reaction, thinking that probably he had done something wrong. But Alex didn't want to face him—at least, not yet.

    She didn't want to face him and thinking about throwing her feelings away. She wanted to be sure about her ideas, about the feelings she had felt. The beating of her heart, the skips and stops, she wanted to be sure of all those things she felt for Magnus. But the day she'd tell him was not that day, not yet.

    She locked up all her feelings for five days since Christmas, and she would tell him what she felt on New Year's Eve. And if she couldn't tell him her feelings, at least she wanted to keep their friendship. She didn't want to lose Magnus, she didn't want to lose a friend. It didn't matter if her love wasn't redeemed anymore, all that mattered was that she was to keep Magnus in her life. It was going to be a hard process, but she knew she could do it, she knew she had to do it.

     "Go on, Alex." She willed herself as she looked into the bathroom mirror, her eyes were also circled with dark eye bags—and she couldn't blame herself, it had been so much to take in that she couldn't sleep peacefully after what had happened that night.

    She was persistent to face Magnus Chase, she was going to do it. She wasn't going to let her feelings cost her the greatest friend she had.