Love And The Outcome (A Selection Fanfiction)

Chapter 15

***Alexander's P.O.V***

The insistent, vigorous pounding of my head was the very first thing that hit me the next morning.

The moment I felt the near skull-shattering, thudding coming from my forehead I immediately began to regret ever waking up at all.

Groaning sleepily, I thrashed my comforter off of my legs and turned onto my other side.

My right hand clenched the pillow in a death grip; acting as a desperate source of stability from the consistent banging that was exploding in my brain in an unrelenting rhythm.

Suddenly, a sound rang out from the far end of the room that sounded almost like laughter, but it sounded so lighthearted and carefree that it was almost like a soothing lullaby in my ears.

Briefly stifling the tenacious throbbing of my headache.

However, the laughter didn't last as long as I found myself hoping it would.

Only seconds later it was met with a sigh followed by silence and I began to think that maybe I just imagined it. It wouldn't have been the first time.

Almost instantly I felt my migraine boom to life again; the pain nearly twice as fierce and menacing than before.

I had to bite my lip from screaming out, clutching one of my nearby pillows as I opened my eyes for the first time all morning.

The sudden light, however, only caused the pain to worsen.

It took my eyes a few moments for them to focus. Everything gradually turning from one big blur into distinct shapes until I found myself looking over at the right corner of my bedroom.

Well, what I thought had been my bedroom.

What used to be my turquoise colored walls were now painted a deep scarlet.

The normally teal blue fusioned with light green bed comforter was now a solid blood-red color.

My pearl-white escritoire workspace that was normally littered with a mess of papers, pens, and books was now replaced with a dull wooden desk, that had little to nothing on it.

Besides a few spare papers all neatly stacked and few pencils placed neatly in a jar tucked in the corner of the table, it was otherwise empty.

Completely bewildered, I desperately tried to rack my memory of anything that explained where I was and why I was there.

The last thing that I could remember was Mackenzie dragging me away from the dance floor and into the hallway.

Yanking the glass of champagne that I had been holding in my hand away from my grasp; her eyes full of frustration and concern.

In annoyance, I had tried to take it back from her but she continued to stay firm in her refusal.

Before long I became infuriated with her and her stubborn attitude, taunting her with the fact that I could just get another glass inside.

However, when I tried to head over to the double-doors leading back into the ballroom, she promptly stepped in front of me, blocking my path with her slim, tiny frame.

I had tried to step around her, but she was just as headstrong as ever.

For what felt like an eternity, we continued to do what was almost like a dance. Both of us stepping back and forth repeatedly.

Soon enough, I became overwhelmed with a blind sense of anger.

I had then yelled at her to stop but she persisted nonetheless, scolding me about what our parents would think if they saw me acting like this.