Chapter Seven

Alex Russo would've liked to say that she didn't enjoy kissing Justin Russo. It would've been easier if she just lied to herself, but even so after trying to convince herself it wasn't nice she ultimately found herself thinking about it more every hour that went by. Last night was a hot mess – she had gone downstairs to the lair to find some research books (no, really …Justin had gotten her into the habit of revising) and when she reached up to the bookcase in the lair, she heard the door wrench open behind her and when she turned, found herself staring right at Justin, who was glaring at her. She frowned, trying to read his face – but as she opened her mouth to speak to him, he had kissed her.

She couldn't get the kiss off her mind – it was driving her insane. After kissing him, she pulled away and ran upstairs, locking her bedroom door and even went as far to put a locking spell on it so no one else could enter. She sat on the bed and cried until she fell asleep. Why did she kiss him? Why did she act like she enjoyed it? Why did she kiss her brother? What sense did that make?

Justin didn't come looking for her. That, she understood because he was probably as confused as she was and still is. The next morning was pure torture – having to go downstairs and eat breakfast together at the table as if she hadn't tasted him. She felt as if she was sinning and she hated it. Every single second of it.

Alex would catch a glimpse of Justin giving one of his momentary stares once in a while the next day. Whether it be at breakfast as she reached for the toast, or poured some orange juice in a glass. The subway was a little better because Harper always occupied her talking, but Justin occupied her thoughts. She barely saw him at school and avoided his existence in the corridor as he was doing the exact same thing to her. The subway home wasn't an issue. She took separate hours from him and found out she worked better alone, but always felt that tinge of loneliness as she had no one to quarrel with.

One time at dinner, Justin got a phone call from Miranda. She asked him to go out to the movies with her. He held the phone to his ear, going silent after she asked him and his eyes immediately travelled to Alex, who remained oblivious at the dining table.

He turned back to the phone and said yes.

He told his family as soon as Miranda hung up. Jerry was proud of his son and Teresa was smiling. Max didn't care and Alex…well…she ate and said nothing more after that. She was the first one to retire to bed straight after dinner, which was more than unusual as she usually stayed for dessert. Justin heard her sobbing upstairs.

Justin went on his date with Miranda the day before Alex's sixteenth birthday. Alex was sitting on the couch with Jerry and Max watching 'car crash every five minutes' when the front door opened and Justin came inside, his face flushed pink. Alex immediately spotted the plum coloured lipstick mark on his cheek. Jerry opened his mouth to say something to his eldest son, but Alex had already beaten him to it, although unintelligible to normal ears, sounded something like "I'm sorry" – the saddest and most heartfelt apology, and she left the room before another word was spoken. Jerry exchanged a glance with his son, who was already racing towards the staircase to go after his little sister. He continued to listen carefully and a few minutes later heard the violent exchange between them – Alex shouted at Justin, and he heard a door slam shut.

On the day of Alex's sixteenth birthday, she found herself wanting to be around acrylic paints more than anything. She got a full art set, two fresh canvases and a set of watercolours from her parents and Max. She wanted to be alone. Harper came over, gave Alex her present, stayed a little while but left soon afterwards. Alex went upstairs to take out her new art set and propped the canvas her beauty mirror. She didn't want to see her face in the morning anymore.

Alex would spend the remainder of her birthday eating cake and painting a pair of haunting, pale green eyes.

Justin waited until the end of the day to give Alex her present – a canvas charcoal sketch of Alex's eyes (done by Justin, who was quite handy with charcoal but not much else) she took the small canvas in her hand, looked at it, before looking back up at him. She found it frightening that she had painted his eyes while he had drawn hers without the other knowing.

"Thank you."

Alex observed her brother's face for a few seconds. She turned away and went to her closet. Justin remained puzzled when she turned around a few seconds later with a gift wrapped bag. She stood before him and handed forward. He stared at it, confused. "I thought that the purpose of one's birthday is to give and not receive, Alex."

She frowned. "Just open it, loser."

Justin cautiously took the bag from Alex and stuck his hand inside, rummaging around until he could feel the delicate, but familiar material cotton. He paused. Justin pulled out the T shirt – and there it was, in all its glory, his (well, hers – as she bought it with her own money) Captain Jim-Bob Sherwood T shirt.

"But…but I thought you – "

"I used my own money. I – well – I felt bad for ruining your T shirt. And I didn't want to fix it with magic so I spent pretty much all my allowance on finding another one of these…" she trailed on, checking his reaction, watching the smile appear across his face, "Took forever. Jesus." Said Alex.

There was a long pause before Justin put the bag down and pulled his sister in for a hug. Alex rested her head upon his chest; it felt nice. She felt close, safe and warm. Justin wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her gently. He moved his lips to her ear. "Thank you, Alex."

She smiled against his shoulder.

When Justin pulled back, he was startled to see the intensity in her eyes – it was happiness, sure, but he could also see the regret and sadness in there, too. It became too obvious enough that Alex had not forgotten their kiss; and even so with everything that had happened, he saw that she was genuinely guilty for ruining his T shirt whatever her intentions were.

It also proved that Justin was on her mind enough not to actually want to fix the shirt with magic. He saw that as a major personality change, never mind liberation, that came through his sister Alex.

It was when she looked into his eyes, did something click. Something aligned inside Justin's head – like all woven strings pulled together, made to hold up the world in his eyes was no longer held up by the strings – but Alex, instead.

They don't know who kissed who first. Alex found herself against Justin again, and this time she didn't pull back. She didn't want to pull back. It had gotten to the point where both Justin and Alex realised that there was no point in claiming their resentment towards each other because they realized that they could not live without the other – it had gotten to the point in their relationship where nothing apart from protecting the other seemed to matter. Sure, it was wrong, it was taboo, but all they wanted was to be confided within the other. And they would do that no matter what. They didn't care what anyone else thought. They just wanted each other.

Justin was always the one who got her out of trouble.

Alex was the only one who felt compassion or sympathy for him.

They both knew how it felt to be different.

These were the repercussions of the eldest Russo siblings.

Alex pulled Justin against her as her back hit the wall. She wrapped her legs around him again, bringing him closer, and found herself, as she kissed him, smiling against his lips. He smiled too. Her hands trailed down his stomach and reached for his belt buckle. His hands, boyish and inexperienced, fumbled against her T shirt. He pulled it over her head, leaving Alex in nothing but her bra. She put her legs back down, rid of her flannel pants and her underwear. Justin did exactly the same.

No one heard them. It was when Alex found herself leaning against Justin, the scent of skin tingling her nose delicately, did she realise that nothing would probably be the same after this. And as the euphoria came down, both children soon realised that they would have to live with what they had just done for the rest of their lives.

And what made it worse, was that Teresa knew, and she would do absolutely nothing to stop them.

The repercussions were getting stronger.