Felix Fractured

12 : the city

FELIX

It's not long after I finally fall asleep when I'm startled awake. It normally takes a lot to wake me up, but I guess someone tossing and turning beside me is enough. Without giving it much thought, I reach out and touch her shoulder. When she doesn't respond, I shake her lightly and, in the dim lighting from the hotel hallway, her red-rimmed blue eyes meet mine. She glances around for a minute and, without warning, literally dives onto my chest. In between sobs, she mumbles something like "Please don't look at me".

I have no idea what to do, but there's something really upsetting about seeing her in this state. I have a few suspicions as to what it's about. I try not to let my emotions get to me in situations like this, but I can't shake the hate I have for him. The clutch on my t-shirt releases and a few more sobs wrack her body before she settles down and drifts back asleep. I shift a little and eventually fall back asleep too.

Of course, I wake up before her. I take notice that my hands are pressed comfortingly against her hair and the back of her neck. She begins to stir and I quickly shut my eyes. I don't know when I became such a coward, but it's because of her. I also could've sworn I fell asleep with my hands by my sides, so, at some point, I must've subconsciously cradled her head in my sleep. It's embarrassing and I don't want to draw attention to it.

Five minutes later, I cave and open my eyes. "How long were you planning on staring at me?" I deadpan.

Her face flushes with color; however, she doesn't back down with her gaze. I've dropped my hands by now, but it doesn't matter. For some reason, her determination is a turn on for me. Suddenly, I really want to kiss her again. The memory from the night of the ball crosses my mind and my breathing catches. I cough and hope she doesn't notice.

She struggles to come up with an answer and I find myself grappling with my own thoughts as well. It doesn't help that the morning light outlines her features, giving her an unintentional, becoming glow.

"Don't get any ideas," I push her away, despite my urges. I need to get a grip on myself. It's not her fault, but I'll still blame her.

She doesn't say anything and I'm silently grateful. I need to detach. "We have a meeting in an hour," I mutter before stumbling into the bathroom with my change of clothes. Business appropriate. Oh, joy.

Once I'm done, I walk past her as she fumbles through her duffle bag. Despite my best attempts, I still catch myself looking over her expression. Her forehead is creased while she thinks over what to wear. I pause briefly, wracking my brain for something to say. It dawns on me that she already knows the attire expected because we packed last night.

I shuffle briskly out onto the balcony and shut the door behind me. It's a typical spring morning, a light chill is in the air but it's not cool enough to demand the length I'm sporting today.

Ugh, I'm going to have to wear this all day.

I fumble for my lighter as I look over the city below me. If anyone asks, I hate cities. The constant noises provide unnecessary distractions that I could do without. The sun has barely risen and there's already a consistent stream of people. The idea makes me anxious.

I light my cigarette.

I'm devoted to my job, but the stress isn't lost on me. My decisions will directly effect people. It's always been that way and it is something I combat on a daily basis. I stare at the dark blue cigarette box before stashing it back in my pocket. The memory of her crying last night resurfaces and my thoughts divert. I wonder what she thinks of it all?