Better Off Alone✔

€hapter 22:

Alex's POV:

It's been hours since I poured my guts onto K.C. She was very comforting and understanding, and better yet she believed me.

We talked for a very long time and I got to learn a lot of things about her.

Let's just say she might remind you of rainbows, with her bubbly personality and all, for a reason.

She is about as straight as a circle...

Anyway, she ended up falling asleep on my shoulder and so I sent her home.

She needs rest more than I do, especially when she's as ADHD as she is.

Fast forward to the present, and you have me following a nurse down a long Hall of never-ending rooms.

The sand in the hour Glass has finally stopped falling and here I am going to see my Paris.

I've never felt like this before, never had a feeling that resembled nervousness so much but at the same time feels completely different.

I'm counting down the rooms as we pass them.

301, 300,299,298,297,296....

Closer and closer I inch towards room 286. But it couldn't be farther away.

"Is she really okay Dr. Lakowski?" I ask. 

My heart is a bomb ticking closer to the deathly explosion everyone knows is to come. And I have a certain feeling no one is going to defuse it...

"Well, she's pretty banged up, that's for sure. Her vitals are stable and she seemed to respond to the surgeries well," he claims as if he knows how she feels, she's in a coma for heaven's sake, "As soon as she wakes from that coma she should be all good and cleared to go home. Don't worry, I'm sure you all will be back in normal routine in no time." He stops moving in front of room 286, gives me a genuine smile, and gestures for me to go in. 

It wasn't until now that I noticed the tightness of my chest and the increasing knot forming in the back of my throat.

I'm not positive that I am ready to see her; Ready to face the pain and aching sorrow of losing her. 

I mean, what if my feelings change when I see the ugly side of her or if I faint from seeing her so broken? What if I leave her side because I'm not strong enough to handle it?

Knowing that this is all my fault is killing me as it is, will seeing her be the last tick to that grenade inside my chest? 

Sweat beads up at my temple and my palms turn into sweaty waterfalls. 

I close my eyes to mask the worry they hold. 

What am I thinking? 

I love her and told her I was here for better or worse. But better was easy and I liked easy. Better was fun and calm. Better was EASY. 

But easy isn't always right.

I open my eyes to meet Dr. Lakowski's. His are reassuring  so I mask the worry with a smile and drag my feet closer to the door. 

I know she can't hear me, but I knock anyway. It's a bitter thought, knowing I am visiting someone who isn't even conscious and yet, somehow, this is supposed to be comforting. 

Shakingly I let my hand turn the handle and use what willpower I have to push it open. 

I keep my gaze to the floor as I huddle over to the wooden chair beside her bed. 

I wonder how many "family members" actually visited and assume less than one. It's funny that this same chair has been set in by people who come to talk to a sleeping person; To try to talk away their pain. All whilst she sleeps. It's kind of creepy, actually.

Keeping my mind from wandering to dangerous places, I focus on the tiled floor, noticing they don't hold any specific pattern. 

I shakingly grab the wooden armrests  and lower myself down, feeling the coolness of the chair. That was probably the only relaxing thing about it. The cushions were too firm, armrests too skinny, and the frame sat at an uncomfortable ninety-five degree angle. 

I try noticing exactly any and everything, except her.  Once more, I am not ready. 

Not ready for the loneliness and pain I know is at close quarters. Not ready for another cut carved into my heart. 

But, as expected, when my eyes meet those big closed eyelids, all of those feelings and more hit me like a spiked bullet searing straight through my heart.  

And more, I'm not scared away or ready to depart into the nearest bar. In fact, I am frozen in that time frame, if not forever.

Even all torn up and bruised, she's beautiful. I watch the way her chest rises and falls in line with the quiet breath escaping her nose. The way her long black hair flows in a messy waterfall around her face. 

As creepy as it sounds, I love watching her sleep. I really get to notice all of her features. 

She has a tiny and barely recognizable mole at the outside corner of her eye and light freckles splattering her cheeks. 

Despite what she tells me, she is skinnier than healthy, but beautiful all the same. 

I grab her hand, surprisingly warm at the touch, and bring it to my face. 

"Oh Paris..." I render laying my cheek upon her knuckles. 

I fiddle with the box in my hoodie pocket and blink back tears. 

I didn't know I had any left at this point. 

I kiss her knuckles and move my thumb in tiny circles as if to caress her hand. 

"Do you remember when you asked me what I wanted to name my kids if I ever had any or if I ever wanted a life and family? It was weird because I hadn't ever pictured myself making it that far, until now anyway... If it was a boy you chose the name Xavier and Alana for a girl. You punched me for laughing, but I thought the names were cute. I never thought I would have kids until now, didn't think I would find anyone who's demons got along with mine so well. " I sniff, as I grab the black velvety box out of my pocket. 

"But, the thing is that may never happen now. You may never wake up. I can't live without you Paris and I am so sorry for fucking up. I shouldn't have invited her in. You have to fight for me Paris because I know now. I know the answer to your question... I do want a life and family, but I want it with you! I don't want a life with ANYONE ELSE!!! YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT!!! FOR ME, for us..." 

I use my sleeve to wipe at the tears sliding endlessly down my cheeks, flip open the box, and take out the ring. 

"I love you so damn much. This ring, it belongs on your finger. No one else's. No one makes me feel the way you do, maybe because no one understands me the way you do. "  A painful giggle escapes my throat, " I want to marry you. Please do the honor of being my one and only awkward emo potato, for the rest of our dumb lives... Wake up and spend an eternity learning to fight our demons together. Please, just wake up and marry me Paris, be mine forever." 

I lift her warm and gentle hand and slip the ring onto her ring finger. 

"For better or worse..."