Years of Dying

Chapter Sixteen

     "How about injuries?" Alex asks.
     "Injuries?"
     "Well, yeah, you know... um, like that time you were whipped?" Alex responds awkwardly. A sudden splash of memories comes back to me. I can remember the pain, it was terrible. I can still feel it too, but now it's more of a dull ache. The bleeding has stopped though, which is a hopeful sign. Though I know I'll never be fully healed. The scars of that day will stay with me forever. Physical and mental scars alike, because the grief on my friends faces might be more painful then the whipping itself. I can picture the crowd, most of them looking grim, sorry about my fate but not all surprised at the event that's taking place. Then I remember another fact of this day.
"Alex?" I ask. He looks up at me from his notepad.
"Yes?"
"How did you react to my whipping? I didn't really see your face..." my voice trails off. To be honest, I wasn't looking at his face. I wasn't looking at Laf's face, or Herc's face. Alex is silent for a moment before answering.
"I was crying." he says finally.
     "You were? But I didn't think we were that good of friends... I-I mean, we still aren't but-" I stammer, unsure how to respond.
     "We aren't?" Alex interrupts, looking ever so slightly hurt.
     "N-no! No, that's not what I meant, I just didn't want to shove you into a relationship if you aren't comfortable with it. That's all." I amend. Alex smiles, but he doesn't laugh.
     "If you're worried about calling me your friend, don't worry any longer. Because I will now officially be your friend." Alex says, and I can feel myself smile.
     "Really? Okay." I mumble.
     "So now, getting back on topic, would you like to discuss your injuries? You don't have to go into detail, just give a few examples. Enough for me to work with." Alex reminds me.
     "Okay... well, there's the blisters. The day before I met you, Hercules got these huge blisters, and they were really bad." I say, getting another memory.
     "Oh yeah! I remember. I mean, I saw them in passing and what not. He did go to the nurse, right?" Alex questions.
     "He did, but the nurses there are shit. James Madison is a better nurse. He managed to save Laf from a bullet wound, remember? And he did that with a few dirty pieces of fabric." I reply. Alex nods slowly, writing down my words. He then looks up at me again. As he looks up, I notice a glimmer of sunlight dancing across his unkempt hair. It looked nice, the bright light against his dark bangs. And compliments the slight sparkle of gold in his brown eyes. I then realize I'm staring, and I look away, trying to cover my blushing face.
      "S-so, all of this is great and all, but I need more personal experiences. From you." Alex breaks the awkward silence, but I can hear the embarrassment in his voice.
     "Well, like I was saying, lots of people get blisters. Myself included. And... scars. Nothing really significant other than the whipping." I say.
     "Okay. You fought in the that battle though, right? The one in the secret tunnels?" he asks.
     "Yeah. I guess you could write that too. I mean, I was almost shot once or twice. And almost stabbed. Yeah, plenty of near death experiences for me." I reply.
      "I was as well." Alex says. He meant to say it casually I think, something to say so we could relate to each other. To make conversation. But the panic in my chest takes over anyways. It reminds me of how much I don't want to loose Alex. How I can't handle his death. It scares me but surprises me at the same time. I've never felt this way about Herc, and I've known him much longer than I've known Alex. Then my brain launches me into thinking about his words the other day. "I love you." He told me that he loved me. Do I feel the same way? How should I know, I've never felt this way about anyone before. Maybe I'm just being selfish. Yes, it's just my selfish desires that want Alex by my side all day, that want him to hug me, that want him to protect me, to care for me. But it's my selfish desires that blinds me from the realization that he's already doing just that.

      It was different with Eliza. When Eliza confessed to me, I was new to this whole dating and romance thing. There wasn't time for it on Nevis. To be fair, I feel as if I don't have time for it. But all I wanted at that time were friends, and the term "girlfriend" was unknown to me. So she confessed. I accepted. We started dating.
     A few weeks before I was captured by the British for the first time, I broke up with her. We'd only been together for a few months, but it was long enough for me to realize that I only liked her as a friend. Then I met John. To be completely honest, I didn't like him very much at first. I didn't like the fact that he only called me by my last name. I didn't like the fact that he treated me as a clueless idiot. And I especially didn't like the fact that my stomach did cartwheels around him. But then something changed. I'm still not sure what, but I'm grateful for it. He warmed up to me, confided in me, and started treating me like a friend.
     So, once we became better friends, I used my limited knowledge about romance and confessed to him. He didn't accept, but he didn't refuse either. I'm not waiting on a reply from him, I just wanted him to know. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. If I were to be more honest with my true feelings, I'd want him to be mine. I'd want to be able to hug him more often, to fall asleep in his arms, to be able to kiss him. But there's no reason in forcing a love that doesn't exist.
     So I'll just go back to my original plan. A plan to rescue him, to protect him, and make him realize that I'm a friend.