Knowing Me, Knowing You | (S/P)

Chapter 27 -Part II

I walk towards the adjacent hall leading to the restrooms and once I'm far enough from the music, I sit on the floor, tilting my head against the wall.

I remember the first time I got my heart broken. It was at another party, in fact. I walked in on my so-called best friend getting at it with the guy I had recently started dating. I was shocked and I couldn't react in the way I'd have wanted to. Instead, I left my own party and wandered through the lonely yet dangerous night street of New York for hours.

But this time, I'm the one responsible of the breaking.

That was the day that I decided that I wasn't going to stay in New York for college. I had no reason to. I barely saw my parents, my friends gave a shit about me, apparently, and on top of that, I was heartbroken.

Chicago was supposed to be a brand-new start.

But nothing has changed except my ability to pretend. That I'm different, that life is different. That the past doesn't matter.

That, someday, somehow, I'll find the missing piece of the puzzle and a home will be waiting at the end of the tunnel.

I dream of things I'll never have.

"Alexia, are you alright?" I open my eyes to see Nathaniel, who has ditched his mask, walking towards me.

"You shouldn't be here." My heartbeat has even out, but my voice is slightly brittle.

"At the party?"

"Here, with me."

"I couldn't find you, I thought that you had left." His voice is calm, skimming the sweet. When he finally reaches me, he sits down on the floor next to me.

"I should have."

"What's wrong?" I let out an incredulous laugh because honestly, what is not wrong?

The same thing that's been broken for years. No magical glue has mended it. Not even Nathaniel Rowlins is capable of that.

"What are we doing, Nathan?"

"I'm...currently trying to understand what is happening but you're not making it easy."

"No, I mean, what are we doing? This is so fucked up." I take my knees to my chest and burry my face against them, trying to take hold of my thoughts. "God, what was I thinking?"

"Alex, if you don't tell me what is happening here –I can't know what is going through your head."

"What do you care, anyway?" Too late, I feel guilty for the harshness of my voice. This is not his fault. But how can I tell him that what we are doing must to stop without sounding like a self-serving bitch?

"What do I care? You're clearly upset about something, of course I care."

If only he was less attentive, less charming, this would be easier. If only he didn't mean that much to me. If only he wasn't what I have been craving all this time... if he wasn't so forbidden.

"There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand."

"Frankenstein?"

We stay in silent, he probably wondering on the vexations of my rapturous comments, I giving way to the convoluted nature of the intricacies of my mind.

"This is about us. Are you...are you having doubts, is that what this is about?" He falters, the words sounding almost pained, and I feel terrible for doing this to him, even more so because I'm completely drunk and I don't how much sense will I be able to exert.