He still isn't back by evening and I hate that I feel his absence way more than I should. Is this it? I'm falling faster and way deeper into this black hole and I can't seem to find a way to stop myself. I stare at my phone lying beside me uselessly and for the umpteenth time contemplate calling Alex. Would I seem clingy already? Needy? Does that even really matter now in the face of the situation at hand? I slide my screen open and meet so many notifications. Unwelcome headline from tabloids and hundreds of emails from reporters. It's been like this since morning and at this point, it's beginning to look unending. I skim through one of the emails. They are all asking for the same thing, just with a little verbal alterations. They want me to do an interview with them talking about Alex's personal life. They don't have to write it but it's pretty glaring that they are all hungry for some tea on Alex and Anita's marriage and what role I played in the divorce. I subconsciously open anoth
"Nicole, Nicole wake up!!!!". I feel his arms tighten around me and my eyes pop wide open, my breath coming out in shallow gasps. I take in large puffs of air as the shivers descend on me, racking my nerves with great effect. I feel so cold. I scuttle deeper into his body and he's readily behind me, willing to hold me through it all. It's almost like I can still feel him, my brother…. the monster from my dreams, his gnarly hands grazing over my skin in the most invasive places, his distorted voice calling out my name, drawing me closer to him. Another aggressive wave of shivers pass through me and I whimper miserably. Alex is balanced on one elbow, the other hand doing all the amazing job of holding me tight against him. The weight and warmth of his arm on my body like an anchor, slowly keeping me in check. I reach up and wrap my arms around his limb, desperately hopping that some of his warmth seeps into me. "Shhhh….. it's okay, sweetheart. It was just a bad dream. Shhhh…..". We
And finally it's time to go back home. As I wake up, I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. As I begin packing up, I find myself faltering in certain moments, looking around to take in my surrounding for what might be the last time in a long time. Much against my will, I enjoyed New York. Okay maybe not New York, but this house. I sigh heavily and pull the zipper of my bag, shutting my luggage close. I hear the shuffle of feet outside and the sound of Alex's voice. I suspect he's on a call. I walk to the door and pry it open just a little bit to get a look at him, he's making his way down the stairs, absorbed in his call. I stare at his back longingly and the last of him disappears down the stairs, I shut the door quietly, letting my back lean against it. I sigh heavily and run my fingers through my hair in agitation. The truth is I don't want to face him. I don't want to look at his face and know that everything I've been stupidly imagining for us all this while will go
The seat is a comfortable settee, grey in colour and plush to sit on but that doesn't help at all with the unease I feel. Now that I'm here, in front of a whole media team, with the camera rolling in my face and their attentions fully on me, I finally begin to doubt if this was really the best course of action. Baxter on the other hand is suddenly repackaged into a three piece black suit that fits his frame perfectly. He's sat in front of me, giving a few last minute orders before the cameras officially start rolling in. When he's done, he turns to me and lightly grazes his palm over mine. I allow myself to look into his beautiful eyes. "Are you okay?". He asks. In this moment, it's quite easy to forget that he's just like every other person here, bloodsucking and information hungry. In this moment, he really makes me feel like I could pour out my mind to him and I can't even tell if that's really his personality or just an effect of the job. Regardless, I tell myself I can't let myse
I push up from the seat stiffly, my mouth set into a hard line. "Let's talk outside". I say coldly to Baxter who's still seated in front of me. He looks at me plainly but I don't even wait around for him. The media team are busy giving each other back pats when I push my way through them, expression cold and unwelcome. It's a good thing none of them has attempted to speak to me after the interview. I'm this close to losing it. I walk out of the studio room and out into the hallway and almost instantaneously, the door opens behind me and Baxter steps out too. "Let's go grab a coffee". He says. He turns to go but I don't have time to waste on him or his watery attempt of stalling. "I'd like to talk now". I say stiffly. He raises a brow at me and I'm just about to say something again when I hear a voice from behind me. "Miss Webster?". I stiffen. Slowly, I turn around to see Alex's driver. He's dressed in his usual suit uniform and he stares at me grimly. I swallow nervously, he's
Alex's eyes follow Baxter's car as he backs out of the hangar, his mouth set into a hard line of distaste. He's not happy at all. I stare up at him plainly, even though my heart races in my chest. What do I say to him now? When Baxter's car finally disappears, he turns to me and as hard as I try, it's impossible to read his eyes behind his sunglasses. "What have you done?". He whispers angrily. I don't know what I expected but honestly, I don't think any reaction of his would particularly surprise me now. This one doesn't either. I take in a deep breath and square my shoulders. "Let's talk on the flight". "Nicole….". I don't stand around to hear his words as I walk past him and towards the jet. The pilot waves at me respectfully and I force myself to offer him a stiff smile in return. I hear Alex back some orders at some people behind me but I don't turn to look as I make my way stiffly inside the aircraft. There's a smiley attendant on standby and she leads me to my seat respectf
I don't see Alex for the rest of the trip and I hate how much my heart yearns from him. More times than I can count, I'd startled awake when I heard footsteps, thinking it had to be him. It wasn't. It always turned out to be one attendant or the other. After an exhausting 6 hours, when we finally land in California, I'm damn well ready to be done with the trip. A sweater had been provided for me on the flight and I wrap it around myself protectively as I make my way down the jet. It's already evening here, the sky already darkening above us. Many steps below me, I finally catch sight of Alex as he issues some quick orders to some of the employees in uniform. I'm still staring at him when my luggage is taken from me and I'm led to a car on standby. When the driver opens the door for me, I sigh softly and glance back at where Alex is still standing. And finally, he looks at me. I hold his gaze all the way across and finally, he sighs and takes out his phone. I watch him punch in a text
I don't know how I make through the night but finally, it's morning. I push up from where I had fallen asleep on the floor of my sitting room. The first lights of dawn are just starting to sift through the window but otherwise, it's still pretty dark outside. I'm stiff from sitting all night but I push up regardless, my bones creaking in the process. It's disheartening that it's a Monday, this is not the kind of condition I like to approach a new week with. My hips are stiff but I make the best of what I can and hobble to my bedroom. When I get to the door, I sigh softly as I take in the scene that had been in a state of massacre just yesterday night. It's a surprise that nobody in the neighborhood had actually called the police on me. I would have thought the scream would have penetrated a fair amount of doors and walls. After the initial shock and despite my quavering nerves and wobbly legs, I had walked forward into the room and taken in the scene properly. The cat had been a ging
My heart thuds loudly in my chest. What the hell have I done? How do I convince a smart, grown man that he heard me wrong. Of all my truths, this was the one thing I wasn't ready to divulge. How did I get so into my feelings and give myself away like that? "Alex…. it's not what you think". I hate the way my voice comes out small. I have always been a bad liar so if my voice doesn't tell already that I'm lying right now, my face must. Either ways, I'm caught. "Nicole, then tell me what it's like". He still manages to exercise good control over his voice. I'm impressed. And I need to learn that at least from him. "Alex….". So fast, our roles have been switched. Suddenly, I'm the one who wants to slide closer and reach for his hand and make sure I'm holding him close to me so he doesn't go away. I resist all urges to do that as I wring my hands in my lap. "Alex….I have something to tell you". I look at him tentatively through my lashes. His face is impassive, just staring at me directl
When I open my eyes the next morning, it takes a little while before my brain processes my surroundings. For the past two weeks or so, I've been in one space, waking up in the same bed, to the same ceiling and to the same warm, reassuring hand wrapped tightly around my torso. Today, things are different. Much different.I roll over on the bed onto the side of my good arm and just….stare out the window emptily. Slowly, my brain does a reboot of everything that lhappened yesterday. This is it. As hard as it was, I finally managed to talk about the weight that's been holding me down, hanging over my head and shoulders. That alone brings a small smile to my face as I register the light feeling in my chest. It sure feels good to offload to someone. It seems like a thousand year's worth of weight has been lifted, I guess talking about all of it was good for me afterall. But now that I have….what now? What next for me? Are things really going to stay the same between Alex and I?My mind flas
Alex pulls the duvet up to my chin, tucking me in fully before coming to settle beside me. As he stares at my face, for some weird reason, I can't stop imagining what he sees. Does he just the red eyed, puffy faced me, or perhaps….is there a layer of disgust over it? Not that I'd blame him one bit. I hold my breath as he brings a hand up to caress my cheek lightly, his gaze burning fiercely into mine. And yet, he doesn't say anything. I suddenly feel the need to break the silence."I ran away when I was 15". I say, my voice hoarse. He sighs softly and just continues to stare straight at me. It's almost as if he's afraid to say something, scared to have the moment crumble away. I'll take that as my cue to continue. "One day when my mum went to work and Ace was in school, I snuck back home from school and took my things. I never looked back ever since that day. But perhaps that was a mistake because he found me in New York". One of Alex's eyebrows go up in surprise but he still doesn't
My heart thuds lightly in my chest as I follow Alex to the bedroom. This is the exact moment I've been avoiding all these days. All along, I knew Alex seemed to be fine with me but he's only human and I know a huge part of him probably still wants to know everything going on. Or rather, that went on. It's been nearly two weeks since the incident and so far, we've both done a good job of acting like something life changing didn't go on. As sick at it is, a part of me actually hoped he'd have forgotten. Like he could. I'm such a fool. I focus on the ripple of muscles on his back as we make out, racking my head actively for what to say, anything at all to lessen the tension."How was it at the hospital?". I ask quietly. What I really mean to ask is how is he? I'm a bit scared of that answer. Because I know I don't want him to be fine."He's….the same". Alex says, his voice neutral. I resist the urge to let out a sigh of relief. He's stitin the coma. Why the hell won't he just….die alread
I seek his lips desperately as we make our way upstairs. We crash through the door blindly and make our way to the bed. Despite the heat of the moment, Alex places me on the bed gently, taking time to ensure that my arm isn't a position that could potentially hurt it."Where did you say that zipper was again?". He asks, mocking resignation in his voice. I chuckle and reach for the little pink hook, sliding it open. Alex gladly takes over, opening it the rest of the way and parting the dress on either sides of my body. I'm well and truly naked in front of him now and I can't wait for feel his skin against mine. He positions between my legs. I firstly think he's going to part me wider and slide into me already but he seems to have other plans. He lowers his head and kisses my face tenderly. He doesn't stop there. He continues to trail the tiniest, more featherlight kisses down my cheek, neck and finally, my chest. I arch upwards, inviting him to take my nipple in his mouth but he has ot
My heart rate quickens as he claims my mouth again. Every single nerve in my body seems to be alert. He brings an arm forward to wrap around my waist, pulling me tightly against his frame, making me feel what I'm doing to him. The bulge in his pants is hard, proud and unflinching. He wants me to feel it, and that's exactly what I do. With my semi-good arm wrapped loosely around his waist, I reach down with my good arm and reach for his zipper fumbling around awkwardly for it. When I finally pull it apart, I feel that front of his briefs staining against the pressure of his cock. It wants free, and I'm here for that. Before I can reach for his waistband, I feel his hand snake under the hem of my short dress and reach upwards. The breath catches in my throat at the delicious sensation and my nails embed crescents into his back as I dig them into him. He takes his time, hiking his fingers up my inner thighs, leaving after him a delicious trail of heat that tingles my core. Subconsciousl
By the time my arms starts to heal, I'm damn well already tired of staying in bed. But Alex is strict about it, not letting me up for longer than necessary. When the bullet wound finally healed enough for me to move my arms, I was more than elated to let him know.I'm just in bed when Tori brings up a lovely bouquet of roses. I groan but inside of me, I'm screaming and melting. Ever since I got shot, Alex has pointedly given me the best of attentions. He brings me flowers every single day and makes sure the words are barely out of my mouth before my wishes are met. Tori has been a lovely help by his side and if anything, I was really glad to see her again at least. On the times Alex had to leave me to be present for work, she kept me good company and this little development got us even closer than ever. It's official, I genuinely like her and she seems to like me too. As she brings the flowers up, the smile on her face is unmatched."Here we go again. This man is going to overload thi
My mind regains consciousness first before my body does. As I come to, I take the deepest breath I can manage and the first thing I notice is the fact that the air smells of….flowers. Lavenders, roses….and something else. I can quite place a finger on it. It…. really can't be, can it? There's no way I made it to heaven. The Lord must have had a lot of mercy on my soul to have put me here. I must say though, the flowers smell way too earthy. I'd think the flowers in heaven would be different. And so slowly, I let my eyes drift open as I prepare to be bewildered.I take in the pearly white ceiling above me first. When it finally seems like I might have enough control over my body to swivel my neck, I turn at small angles to glance at either sides of me. My brows furrow in mild confusion as I take in all of my surroundings. It somehow looks…. familiar. I try to push up on my arms but a pain so sharp shoots up right into my arm's length. I wince loudly and plop back on to the pillow. That
I see his eyes widen as he rushes forward. I'm full on crying now, the tears streaming down my face and obscuring my vision. It feels like a miracle, perhaps this is the one miracle to make up for all the years of misfortune I've gone through. "Nicole!!!". Alex rushes forward and firstly reaches for my hands that are still taped behind me. "Are you okay? Fuck, what the hell is even going on?". His breaths are coming hard and fast as he works on freeing my hands. From the sitting room, I hear Ace's grunts as he probably tries to get on his feet. Alex's blows must have landed well. When I hear his grunts coming closer, I feel a sense of panic settle in my chest again but thankfully, the tape comes undone around my wrists and for a moment, my hands feel too good to be mine. The blood flows right in my arms again and it's the most delicious sensation ever. Ace walks in through the door right in that moment and I see that the lower half of his face and a good fraction of the front of his