The Alliance
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- Partes 23
After getting raped 8 months ago, Ava Mitchell has only seen the world in black and white. Good and bad. Trustworthy or not. No grey area. No blurred lines. Blurred lines are naive, and she never wants to be naive again. But is she able to stop herself from falling in love?
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When Ava starts getting mysterious notes encouraging her to meet up somewhere, she refuses the first time. But when she decides to go against herself and follows the letter's instructions, it turns out to be the best decision of her life.
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He tucks my red hair behind my ear, "I've waited for you for months," He brushes his thumb against my cheek, "I'm not gonna let you go so easily. I can't." His eyes shine with vulnerability, showing how true his words are.
"I'm just scared I'm gonna ruin everything," I whisper. I'm too broken for him. I can't be fixed. A part of me doesn't want to be. Being fixed means not being scared, but being scared is what helps me feel sane.
He leans his forehead against mine, holding my face in his hands, "We can be scared together."
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"Hey," Nevaeh says, nudging the girl to her right, and I wince, my wrist starting to get swollen from the handcuffs.
"Nevaeh I don't think you should-"
"Shhhhhh." The girl whispers, unmoving. She opens her eyes. I can barely hear her on the other side of Nevaeh.
"Be good and they'll keep you," She whispers, closing her eyes.
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IMPORTANT TRIGGER WARNING: This story will discuss topics such as rape, abuse, EDs, suicide, and self-harm. I do NOT glorify these subjects.
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I never believed in perfect starts. I wasn't the guy who lit up a room or made girls turn their heads. But then she walked in-first day of senior year-and everything changed. Her name was Lena. Beautiful, sharp, untouchable. The kind of girl you admire from a distance and never think will notice you. And for a while, she didn't. But then something shifted. I asked for her Instagram. I started texting her. Late-night chats turned into inside jokes, nervous flirting, and long walks under empty skies. Slowly, she let me in. Slowly, I fell-harder than I ever thought possible. She started to love me too... or so I thought. But love is never a straight line. Not when her past is made of broken promises and bruised trust. Not when she starts pulling away just as I'm holding on tighter. I loved her harder the more she faded-and then, one day, she was gone. No explanations. No warning. Just silence. A year passed. Then, one night-midnight phone call, trembling voice, the same girl who broke me once asking if I still remember how it felt to love her. This is the story of how we began. Of how we ended. Of how sometimes, the people who break you are the only ones who know how to put you back together. And maybe-just maybe-some love stories aren't about forever. They're about surviving the parts that almost destroy you.
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