[1] ALEXA, and her hell ✓ [Editing]

Touch ✓

Billie Eilish — Everything I Wanted
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"touch has a memory." —John Keats
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The 22nd of January, Year 2024.

     Alexa sits at the foot of her bed, Phillip is lying on his back with his head hanging over the edge beside hers and Katya Sharpe and Ryan Fowling is before them, sitting in her soft, cream couch. They were talking about the pending request made by Alessandro Guiseppe, before all ran out of ideas and are now sitting in silence.

     Ryan's heavy sigh breaks the quiet tension and Alexa jumps to her feet, snapping herself and everyone out of their daze, to wrap up the meeting.

     "Okay. For now, we know that there are at least fifteen to twenty of them. It's not a big gang like the Crows, so we can make this happen fast and easy. You following?"

     "Ugh, I don' wanna..." Ryan grumbles, the same time Katya beams, "A piece o' cake." The blonde and the brunette looks at each other and giggle.

     Phillipeño chuckles at their silliness, before commenting as well, "It looks like they're fairly new."

     "They are." Alexa confirms, "They'll be having a recruitment soon and every member has to be present for that." Alexa points out, hoping that they'd get what she's implying, but Ryan seems a bit iffy, avoiding her serious gaze.

     Phillip rolls over on his stomach and huffs, "Remember we're supposed to spare the daughter and children."

     "Why can't we jus' kill 'er?" Katya flops against the arm of the sofa dramatically. Her strawberry blonde waves bury her face.

     "She's ruining our relaxation and she doesn't even know it." Ryan speaks up after, playing along, even though it's clear to Petro's best student that he doesn't want to be apart of their fiasco.

     It seems Katya dragged him into it and he didn't know how to refuse. He still doesn't know how to.

     Alexa takes note of their behaviour. They're all acting like a bunch of lazy asses and she shakes her head, disappointed yet unyielding on her decision. "Deal with it." Clapping her hands once, she adds, "It's bed time. Get going before I kick someone."

     They all groan like dying whales.

     "Aggressive much?" Phillip pokes fun at her attitude.

     "But I don' wanna move right now, I'm comfortable!" The most American one throws his head in Katya's lap, to which she unexpectedly squeals, dropping him face first on the carpeted floor. Ryan gets up, spitting out white fluff, shooting daggers at her with his eyes, "PUH!" And, he grabs her waist suddenly after wiping his tongue on his shirt, throwing her over his shoulder.

     "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

     "Why'd you shove me like that?" He begins to scold her, leaving the room. Alexa and Phillip are long forgotten. "It's not like it's the first time I've..." His voice fades out the further they get.

     Alexa now turns to Phillip who's on his back again on her bed, wondering why he hasn't left yet. "Out." She says sharply, jamming a finger towards the opened door.

     "What?" He questions nonchalantly, feeling her glare.

     "Aren't you leaving?"

     "Sure," he raises both his eyebrows, yet makes no move to get up, "but I have a question."

     'A question?' Since their awkward phase, Phillip hasn't been putting out an effort to hold a proper conversation with her, much less to ask her anything. "Um..." She hesitates, frowning, "What is it?"

     "What do you look like?"

     "Hu–what?"

     He sits up, "I want to know what you look like?"

     Her frown gets deeper with ridicule. "Even if I tell you, how will you know?"

     "You're concerned about that?" Phillip asks flatly, and lifts his hands, wriggling his long fingers. "Then, let me touch you."

     "That's inappropriate."

     "You have dirty thoughts, I see. Well, my intentions are completely pure." He hums. "I already have a drawn image of you in my mind, but it isn't clear."

     She argues, turning pink. "My mind isn't dirty, you were making grabby hands. And why do you need to touch me to see me clearly?"

     In her presence, he can tell she's starting to feel uncomfortable by the minute. He's never seen this side to her. 'Is this the same person that avoided my existence for three years?' His heart rate rises the slightest, like the smirk lifting at his lips. He chuckles, "I'm blind. Or, did you forget again?"

     At that, Alexa sighs feeling helpless, with her chest getting heavy and her palms getting clammy. Closing her eyes to clear her head, she steps up to the bed where he now sits at the edge.

     "Fine," she says.

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