Authors Note: Howdy guys, I know it's been a bit longer than planned since I last updated, but the third and last chapter is finally here. I want to warn you that this chapter is again, not very well written and also, I haven't been able to find any time to edit this properly, so there will most likely be spelling errors and the like that you'll find, but hopefully, someday soon, I can go back through these chapters and edit everything. Now, this ending may not be to everyone's liking, but I want you to know now before you start, that the story doesn't end here. I plan on doing a seperate story, from Alex's POV that shows her side of things, from the start of this story and a little bit after this one ends, which will hopefully tie everything up. It may take a few weeks before it's posted, but I've already started writing it and hopefully it won't take too long.
I also want to thank everyone for the support, reviews and PM's that I've received reguarding this story. I am as grateful as ever for all the feedback and for the patience everyone has shown in waiting for my other stories to be updated, which will hopefully happen in the near future. I especially want to thank everyone who sent me PM's and comments, giving me well wishes and the like concerning the recent hardships in my personal life. This fandom is full of wonderful people and I cannot thank you all enough. You guys really lifted my spirits with your kindness.
I hope you have enjoyed the story.
This Is What I Call Life
I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, without my tiny little pills
Sudden emotions I have awoken, I'm wet behind the ears
To find myself in such a cruel, cruel world
And nobody gets me, nobody gets me, nobody gets me like you
And everyone left me, everyone left me, everyone left me but you
'Cause you're the only one, the only one, the only one that gets through
When my hope is gone, I'm feeling numb, the only one I let through is you
You get me through this cruel, cruel world
Cruel, Cruel World - Darren Hayes
James is asleep in his room and Lucy is passed out in your bed, both blissfully unaware of the mess that sits on the kitchen floor, huddled against the counter, clutching a bottle of tequila. Your stomach gurgles in complaint, but you quieten it with another mouthful of the harsh liquid, that burns down your throat and almost threatens to come back up. But you're no novice and within moments, your stomach settles and accepts it's fate as your liver cries quietly in the dark, grim pit of your belly.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that this has to stop, know that you have a son that you're responsible for, but these late night binges are the only thing keeping you going lately. These few hours of blissful nothing, no stress, no worry, no pain, is the only thing that's keeping your darkest thoughts at bay, the ones that whisper to you in the middle of the night.
The ones that sound like a voice that's so familiar, but one that you'd rather just forget.
Unfortuntely, your alcohol tolerance is at an all time high tonight and so when you drop the empty bottle of tequila on the floor beside you, your mind is still functioning enough to form thoughts. And it's not long before those thoughts turn to memories which start rolling through your mind and you have to think about the reason why you're such a pathetic mess lately.
Alex.
It's all because of fucking Alex; Alex who made you start to dream of a better future for yourself and your son, who gave you hope for a different life. It's not that you're heartbroken over her, you try to convince yourself, you're more heartbroken over the loss of how she made you feel.
Because when you were with her, for the first time in years, you actually felt alive.
It was rare that you ever spent time with her outside of a hotel room, but sometimes when you were at Litchfield with her, you would both just talk. Not about your lives, never about your lives, but about your interests and sometimes, on the most rare and the most drunk occasions, about your hopes and dreams and fuck, you just felt normal. You didn't feel like you were a sex worker with a four year old son at home, you didn't feel like you had a pile of unpaid bills waiting to be paid, you just felt like Piper.
Alex brought out the you beneath the facade that you wore so well, the you before everything in your life went to shit and it was just so fucking nice to leave reality behind for a little while.
Not that you regretted your life, since that would mean you would have to regret the birth of your son, which you could never do, even on your worst day. James was the best thing that had ever happened to you, but you were human and sometimes you couldn't help but think of the possibilities, couldn't help but dream of a different life.
And Alex gave that to you, and then Alex took that away, like some vengeful, jealous little god, or goddess in this case.
And it wasn't until you pushed Alex out of your life that you realized all of these things, noticed the change in yourself and the change in your thoughts. You know a part of it was just the regular work and the regular paycheck, the ability to pay your bills on time and to start to make actual plans for a better future. But a part of it was just Alex; Alex who was so confident and so sure of herself and Alex who, though she never said it until that fateful day, always gave off the impression that she thought you could always be more than what you were. The way she looked at you and the way she spoke to you made you feel as if you could do anything, be anything.
But it all just ended up being an illusion. Alex was gone now, has been gone for almost three months, and you were still the same as you were before, except now life seemed even duller than you could have ever imagined.
"Fuck," you whisper to your self, dropping your head into your hands to hide the tears that were beginning to swell. "Fuck, fuck, fucking shit, fuck."
"Mom?"
You quickly look up at the sound of your son's voice, hurriedly wiping away the tears that had begun to build in your eyes as James enters the kitchen and spots you. He's still half asleep, his hair messy and his blue eyes only half open, and he doesn't seem to find it strange that you're sitting on the kitchen floor, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt.
"Hey baby," you say softly, forcing a smile and opening your arms as he immediately makes his way over to you. He practically falls into your embrace, he's so obviously tired, and you hold him to you gently, relishing in his warmth against your cold skin. "What are you doing up?"
"I thought I heard something," he murmurs softly as he leans his dark head against your chest. "And I'm thirsty."
"Well, let's get you a glass of water and then get you back to bed," you reply as you run your fingers through his soft hair. "You start school on Monday and you need to get your rest."
You stand up with him in your arms and place him on the kitchen counter before you pour him a glass of water. You wait until he's finished before picking him up again and carrying him the short journey to his room, with it's Star Wars bedsheets and lego that covers most of the floor. He's barely awake when you lay him down and cover him with a blanket, brushing your fingers over his hair before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
"Goodnight, baby," you whisper softly. "I love you."
"Love you too," he mumbles, before immediately drifting off to sleep. You watch him for a little while, hoping to gain some strength from his face before standing up and making your way to the living room. You lay down on the couch and close your eyes, hoping for sleep to take you, but it never comes and instead, all you're left with are memories.
/
Weeks pass and nothing changes, except for the fact that James has started school and you're left at home by yourself almost every day. Being alone only makes things worse and you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into the depression you've slipped back into, so far that you feel nothing could pull you back out. You drink more and you sleep even less and it's beginning to affect your work, which has already dropped since your refusal to return to Litchfield after that fateful night.
But the bills have piled up and you're almost two months behind on rent and beneath the depression is an intense fear that you might be thrown out onto the streets, so you know you have to pick up your game. Most of your regular clients all frequent Litchfield, and you know that your only chance to scrape by the next few months is to return to your old hunting grounds. So on a Saturday night, you ask Lucy to watch James for you as you put on your favourite dress, a short black number that leaves your back completely bare, before you leave the apartment with a mixture of hope and dread in your heart.
The half a bottle of vodka you drank before leaving home leaves you feeling more confident than you expected as you walk up the street leading to the club, lacking the nerves you had expected upon returning. You pass the line outside and meet Mike at the door, just like old times and you don't know whose more relieved to see who when he moves to let you pass.
"Piper, where the hell have you been?" He asks with obvious worry, despite the relieved smile on his face at your prescence. "We've been missing you here."
"I've missed you guys too," you reply geniunely, leaning forwards to return the bear hug that he offers you. "Is it going to be a good night tonight?"
"When everyone finds out that you're back? It's going to be a huge party up there."
You give him a smile before you walk inside, overwhelmed as you always are by the noise, which is something you find yourself unaccustomed to after months of quiet bars. You instantly head for the stairs, leaving the dancefloor and then the second floor behind as you climb until you reach the roof, where your voice is immediately shouted the moment the hit the top step.
"PIPER!"
You twist around to face the small bar, where Rachel is practically climbing over the counter to meet you, gaining surprised and confused looks from the other bartenders and customers. You meet her halfway and you're almost knocked over by the force of her hug, feeling the breath knocked from your lungs as she squeezes you tightly.
"It's good to see you too," you manage to wheeze out, though you hug her back whole heartedly. You've missed Rachel more than anyone over the past few months that you've been absent from your favourite club and you felt a weight lift from your heart to see her again.
Only for your heart to drop when over Rachel's shoulder, you see her, standing at the bar with a shocked look on her face as she stares straight back at you. It feels as if time stops, as you continue to hold her gaze, feeling as if your heart will burst from the emotion that threatens to overwhelm you. Your mind goes completely blank, except for one thought, the thought that it is just so fucking nice to see her face, lacking the anger and hurt of your last meeting with the raven haired beauty. And then Alex puts down her glass and takes a step towards you and time speeds up again, the room fading back into view. Rachel pulls away from you, blocking your sight and your vision is overwhelmed by your friend's worried expression at close range and all thoughts of Alex leave your mind.
"Piper, where the fuck have you been?" She practically hisses as she begins to pull you away from the stairs, but not in the direction of the bar as you expected. She makes a hurried gesture to one of the bartenders and you manage to catch a glimpse of Alex standing stock still in the middle of the room with a forlorn expression on her face, before you're pulled to a corner table and out of sight. "Do you know how fucking worried I've been?"
"I'm sorry," you apologize immediately and it's completely sincere; you feel horrible just by looking at the intense worry on your friend's face, feel like an idiot for not replying to her text messages or letting her know that you were okay. "Things have been kind of... crazy lately, I guess."
Crazy is an understatement and you can tell that Rachel understands by the way her expression turns instantly from frustrated worry to sincere sympathy in a matter of moments. "Shit, girl, you should have called me."
"I know, I know," you sigh, dropping your head into your hands, feeling like a complete failure. In the midst of your problems, you once again managed to forget about the people around you, the people you cared for and who cared for you in return and it made you feel like such a fucking asshole.
"I really am sorry, Rach," you apologize again, looking up at your friend from in between the gaps of your fingers. Rachel simply nods her head in response, so quick to forgive you, which is unfair to her but you take what you can get. You honestly don't know what you'd do without a friend like Rachel.
"Just remember to call me the next time you go off the reservatation, yeah?" Rachel scolds you one last time before sighing and letting the conversation drop. "Anyway, I know you're probably here to work and I have to get back in a minute, but we'll catch up later, yeah? The group is meeting up for drinks at our bar tomorrow and you better be there."
You understand the meaning behind her words and nod solemnly, knowing that an explaination for your time away is more than reasonable since you had caused so much worry. You smile as Rachel squeezes your shoulder warmly before standing up and making her way back to the bar and then you just allow yourself a moment to gather your wits.
And you only get a moment, before someone is dropping into the seat beside you and you close your eyes, expecting the worst. Expecting her.
But you're surprised upon hearing a masculine voice call your name and you open your eyes to be faced with an old client of yours; an attractive man around your age, named Liam. He's had a bit to drink and his words are half slurred as he speaks to you and your responses might be a bit too enthusiastic, but you're just so damn glad that it's not Alex that you can't do anything but be happy.
He takes your enthusiasm for interest and it's not twenty minutes later that you're leaving the club with him, not daring to look back to see the eyes that you can feel watching you as you walk out the door.
/
An envelope drops onto the table before you, hitting the wood with a heavy thud and you frown over the edge of your glass. You slowly look up to meet Lucy's gaze and find her staring back at you with a strange mixture of hopelessness and determination. You take another sip of your vodka and coke before setting the glass down and picking up the envelope, your blue eyes widening when you peer inside and find it practically overflowing with cash. You don't even manage to get a word out before Lucy is speaking, her words rushed, but seemingly planned.
"I live here," she says firmly. "I live here, so I should pay my part in rent. I eat your food, I sleep in your bed, my clothes are in your drawers, I use your shower and your electricity and you wash all my shit for me."
"You look after James-" You try to tell her for the hundredth time, but she cuts you off again.
"I look after James two, maybe three times a week," she says with exasperation, putting her hands on her hips in a way that's so much like you, you almost smile. "I am here every fucking day, have been here everyday for the past four years, and it's not like looking after James is hard. I could put on the same movie every night and he wouldn't even notice, wouldn't even care, he'd still sit there and watch it and never make a goddamn sound. But you cook for me and clean up after me and you've been the best goddamn mother I could hope for since I was thirteen years old, so I wanna pay you back for it. I want to help pay the bills and the rent and make things easier so you're not so stressed all the time."
Her eyes glance briefly down to the drink by your hand and it all starts to make sense. This isn't the first time Lucy has offered to help pay bills and it's not like she doesn't know you drink, but she's never been so determined before and you know why. She's smart and she's observant and you know that's she's noticed your normally optimistic attitude fading away and the bottles of alcohol that have been dominating your trash can recently. James is still too young to understand or notice, but Lucy is older and she's worried about you and how can you blame her? Her father is an alcoholic asshole; you can't blame her for being scared. She knows the signs.
You feel ashamed suddenly, and tears are beginning to prick at your eyes as you slowly slide the glass away from your hand. You look up at Lucy and watch as her expression softens, watch the tears build in her own brown eyes and it's almost your undoing. She slumps into the chair next to you, taking your hand tightly in her own as she holds your gaze. "Please, let me help."
"Baby," you say softly, your voice cracking with emotion as you reach up to brush some dark hair away from her face. "Honey, you already help me, more than you know. Just having you around, playing with James, it means so much to me, Luce. If I didn't have you, I really don't know what I'd do." You pause as a tear slips down your cheek, mirrored almost immediately by the tear that slips from the corner of Lucy's eye. "You're like my own kid, you are as much a part of this family to me as James, and because of that, I can never, ever, take your money, baby."
You slide the envelope across the table towards her and Lucy's brow crinkles in confusion as she gazes as it. "Why? If I'm a part of this family, shouldn't I help out? That's what family does, they help each other."
"You already help out, babe, I told you that, but the bills and shit, that isn't your problem, okay? I'm the mom, paying the bills and buying the groceries, that's my problem, not yours. And honestly, Luce, we're doing okay at the moment, I promise. I'm working again and the bills are getting paid, so, there's nothing for you to worry about."
This news only seems to confuse Lucy further, if possible. "Then what's the problem? Why are you always just so... sad?"
You pause for a moment, unsure of what you should tell her and you're still thinking when she asks the last question that you'd ever expect her to say.
"Has this got something to do with Alex?"
You jaw drops in shock and your blue eyes widen, giving you away almost immediately by the understanding that dawns on Lucy's face. You scramble for something to something, but all that ends up coming out is, "How do you know about Alex?"
"You uh," Lucy looks uncharacteristically awkward as she mumbles the words. "You say his name sometimes... when you're asleep. Dreaming, I guess."
You curse yourself and your goddamn dreams, which do heavily involve Alex recently. Without even thinking, you correct Lucy on Alex's gender while you're still lost in your thoughts. "Alex is a girl."
"What?" Lucy's surprised exclaimation brings you hurriedly out of your thoughts and you almost laugh at her wide eyed expression. "Alex is a girl? But your dreams, you- you're uh- they're um..."
And Lucy's awkwardness all suddenly makes sense. "Sex dreams, yeah."
And it's true, a lot of your dreams that involve Alex are sex dreams, as your subconcious mind remembers the way her hands felt on your body and the way that her skin tasted. Those dreams are the ones that wake you up, cold and sweating, because those are the dreams that hurt the most. It's the good dreams that leave you crying on the couch in the middle of the night, when you remember the good times, not the dreams that would scare any other normal person. It's sad, but you're use to the bad dreams now, so used to them that they barely even bother you anymore.
It's Lucy's voice that pulls you from your thoughts once more, her question even more shocking than the last. "So, you're in love with a girl?"
It's not the girl part that surprises you, it's the in love part which leaves you reeling, since you've spent so long convincing yourself that it's not true that it's shocking to hear it from someone else's mouth. Lucy seems to have finally regained her composure and is watching you thoughtfully, all surprise and confusion having vanished from her face and you don't know what to say. Your mind is a jumbled mess as you're searching for words, but as the minutes drag on, you find yourself speechless until your mouth decides to speak without your consent.
"Yeah, I am."
/
A few weeks pass by and you find yourself slowly getting back into a routine of sorts. Every morning you wake up and make breakfast for the kids, say goodbye to Lucy before walking James to school, which is a few blocks away from your apartment. You spend the time while James is in school doing odd chores around the apartment, grocery shopping and paying bills, before going to pick him up in the afternoon. You spend the next few hours with him and eventually Lucy, whenever she shows up from her after school activities, before making dinner. After dinner is over, you play some video games with the kids before you put James to bed, then you shower and get ready, say goodbye to Lucy before going to work.
You still drink a bottle of vodka almost everyday, but it's a step up from the two you were drinking less than a month ago.
The routine helps, helps you pull yourself out of the hole that you'd dug yourself into, though the darkness is still there, on the fringes of your mind, waiting. Sometimes it creeps up on you unexpectedly, weighing you down, pulling you back into the ocean of misery that has claimed your life over the past few months, but you're fighting it. You're fighting and that's what matters.
This day started out as one of your better days, since it was a Saturday and you were able to spend most of the day with your son. You took him to the park and fed the ducks in the pond before scrapping with him playfully on the grass, while Lucy watched with amusement from a bench a few feet away. It was a good day and you spent most of it laughing, and even on your way to Litchfield, you had still been wearing a smile, but thing's turned not an hour after you arrived at the club. Litchfield was rowdier than usual, even for a Saturday night, and it seemed that everyone you encountered was a little bit too drunk and a little bit too aggravated. One man that had approached you at the bar had ended up being dragged out by one of the bouncers after he started cursing at you and making a scene when you refused his offer to take you home with him.
And now you were on your fifth drink, ready to just give up and go home, since you couldn't see the night getting any better. You couldn't even talk to Rachel, since the bar was so packed that your friend hadn't even had a moment to catch her breath for the last hour and a half. You finished off the rest of your drink and decided to call it a night, reaching for your jacket, only to stop when a margarita was placed it front of you, your favourite, and the seat next to you was filled.
"Alex." You whisper her name without even looking at her, your eyes glued to the margarita, with the fingerprints left behind on the frosted glass, from a hand you know almost as well as your own.
"Piper." Her voice sounds unexpected ragged and broken and it's enough to make you turn your head and look at her. She looks exactly the same, almost, a few small details difference that only someone who knew her well would notice; the bags beneath her eyes, the furrow on her brow, the lack of the normally ever present smirk on her ruby red lips. She looks like Alex, but just an older, tireder version.
"Come home with me," she asks you, out of no where and it's so unexpected, it's hits you like a punch in the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. It was the last thing you thought she would say to you, since you haven't seen her since your brief glimpse of her frozen face almost a month ago, here in this room, and you haven't spoken to her for more than four months, on that fateful day where everything fell apart.
On the day that you fell apart.
"Al- Alex," you finally manage to stutter her name after a minute of frozen silence, shaking your head in disbelief. "I told you-"
"I know what you told me," she cuts you off, her voice tired and defeated, but with an unmistakable edge. There's bitterness there that you don't expect and it's another blow. "I know, but just- fuck, Piper- please."
"Alex, we- we shouldn't. I can't."
"I can pay," she offers you immediately, completely ignoring your halfhearted protests. "I'll pay you double." A shake of your head. "Triple. Piper, come on."
You hesitate for a second and you know immediately that it's a mistake, just from the flash of hope that ignites in Alex's eyes. That brief glimpse of emotion is your downfall and you drink your margarita in just a few mouthfuls before standing up and grabbing your coat. Alex follows you without a word, past faceless people and out of the club, where you climb into one of the taxis waiting outside. She gives an address, not the one of your usual hotel, or any that you recognise, but you don't question her. The car ride is awkwardly silent, since you're both unsure of what to say and it feels so wrong. You've never had this problem with a client before, especially not with Alex, not since you very first started this job.
But right now, it doesn't feel like work, being here with Alex in this horrible, awkward silence. You aren't sure just yet what it feels like, a mixture of anxiety, hope and dread, but it doesn't feel like just another job.
The taxi stops outside of an apartment complex, on the upper east side, and despite the years that have passed, you recognise the area almost immediately. You used to live not far from here, with your parents in the house that you grew up in, and you haven't been in this part of the city since before James was born and it only makes your anxiety worse. You wait until Alex pays the driver before following her out onto the street, tightening the belt of your jacket, since it feels like the temperature dropped twenty degrees since you left Litchfield.
You trail behind Alex as she enters the apartment building, taking notice of everything as you try to ignore the quick glances that Alex keeps throwing over her shoulder every few seconds, as if making sure that you're still there. You step into the elevator and close your eyes when Alex presses the button, since the elevator walls are mirrorred and you don't want to look at the dark haired woman beside you. You feel like a coward and you're beginning to regret this, letting your emotions get the better of you, letting Alex persuade you so easily into taking you to what you were now realising was her home. You never, ever went home with a client, always only to hotel rooms, mainly for safety reasons but also because it always felt too personal.
And now you were about to see where Alex lived, see her apartment where her fingerprints were placed over every piece of furniture, where her scent lingered in the air and you were terrified; terrified that you'd take it all home with you and never be rid of it. Never be rid of her.
You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding when the elevator doors finally slide open and you force your legs to move when Alex begins walking down the hallway, while your mind begs you to stay in the elevator. Her door is all the way at the end, and you realize that you're not the only one feeling anxious when you notice Alex's hands shaking as she tries to insert her key into the lock. It makes you feel strangely better and a little bit more confident by the time Alex finally manages to open the door, only for it all to drain away upon seeing her apartment.
"Holy shit," you say, a little louder than you expected, causing Alex to jump in surprise after the last thirty minutes of silence. But it breaks the ice and you both feel better for it, as Alex drapes her jacket over the back of her sleek black leather couch, while you walk around the open planned living room in wide eyed amazement. The apartment is amazing; with polished hardwood floors, a plush black leather corner lounge, overlooking the city with all it's colourful lights through the floor to ceiling windows. There's no television, but there is a large gas fireplace, with pretty blue flames and the walls are covered with floor to ceiling bookshelves, overflowing with books. There are photographs everywhere, with Alex in all of them, along with some people you recognise and others that you don't, one in particular who you know immediately must be Alex's mom, since the resemblence is uncanny, with their smirky smiles and bright green eyes.
You turn to find Alex watching you intently from over the black marble kitchen counter, a glass of scotch in her hand. There's one waiting for you as well and you find yourself almost aching for it, aching for the confidence that the alcohol will give you. You want something to help you get past this tense silence, to help you numb the feeling of your heart in your throat and the painful clenching in your stomach.
You finally manage to tear your gaze away and begin to untie the belt of your jacket, slowly sliding the tan material off your shoulders. You know why you're here, the only reason that you're here, you try to convince yourself, and you make sure Alex knows it too as you kick off your heels. You move to take off your dress, but you're surprised when your hands are gently pushed away to be replaced by Alex's; you hadn't even heard her leave the kitchen. Her hands are soft and warm when they slip the silky material from your shoulders, letting your dress fall to the floor around your feet, leaving you in your lacy black bra and underwear.
She takes your hands and guides you through the living room and into her bedroom and when she lets you go, you take a moment to look around. There's a king sized four poster bed in the middle of the room, with intricate carvings on the wooden headboard and black silk sheets on the soft looking matress. There's a door that leads to what you assume is an ensuite bathroom and another wall of floor to ceiling windows, giving you a view of the city. You watch as Alex stops besides one of the bedside tables and pulls her wallet out of her back pocket; she doesn't look at you as she pulls a thick wad of cash out and places it on the table.
And for some reason, the sight makes your heart break a little in your chest.
But then Alex slowly begins to undress and your heart starts to beat harder, thumping painfully against your ribcage. You find yourself crossing the room without even thinking about it and then your hands are on her soft silky skin for the first time in months, and it feels so natural that it's almost like no time has passed as you help her remove her clothes. Your mouth finds the smooth skin of her neck as you hook your fingers in her underwear and slide the fabric down her legs, feel her heart pounding against your lips as her heart rate increases to match the fast pace of your own.
And then suddenly her hands are on you, urgent, desperate, and she's pushing you down onto the bed, sliding inbetween your thighs and pressing against you in all the right places. Your lips crash against hers and your entire body shudders with the explosion of sensations that course through your body, as a whimper escapes from her throat. Your hands are shaking, so you grip onto her shoulderblades to stop the trembling as her hands slip down your stomach and to the warmth between your thighs. She doesn't waste any time and she doesn't need to, since you've been slick with desire ever since the moment you touched her skin. She slips inside of you effortlessly and then your moving in sync and your body is on fire and you wonder how the fuck you ever lived without this feeling. Your stomach is clenching, the muscles of your arms are rippling as you grip onto Alex's back and you can feel rain dripping on your neck-
And then it's as if time stops as you pull away slightly, pushing the sweaty bangs away from Alex's forehead as you try to catch a glimpse of her face. She tries to hide the tears that are flowing down her cheeks but she has no where to go and you're frozen in shock. "Alex?"
"It's fine, I'm fine, I- fuck," her voice trembles before snapping, disintergrating into nothing as her face crumples in pain before your eyes. You're beginning to worry, wondering if you've been too rough, if you've hurt her, but the emotions in her green eyes give away the true cause of her pain and you begin to understand a moment before she utters the words. "Piper. Pipes. I love you. I love you."
And then you have to fight the intense overwhelming urge to run away.
She seems to realize this almost the second the thought runs through your mind and her grip tightens on your body. For a bare instant, you're afraid, but then you remember that this is Alex, Alex who has only ever been kind to you, who would never hurt you and she's crying. She's sobbing like a child and it hurts you, so you reassure her with a smile that's shaky at best as you wipe away the tears that drip drown her pale cheeks.
"Please, don't go," her voice sounds fragile, so unlike her and it almost scares you. Who is this person and where is the confident woman that you met almost a year ago? "Please. Please, stay."
It feels like hours before you make your decision, a lifetime, but barely a few moments pass before you allow your body to relax into the mattress.
"I'm here," you whisper as you run your fingers through her dark hair, your lips pressed lightly against her brow. "I'm here."
end.
[story continued in a different life, a different world.]
