A/N: I know, I know, .. It's been forever. But it's the same old song: too damn busy! As a matter of fact, I was actually supposed to start writing my essay that is due on Monday and I instead end up updating this story. I'm so going to regret this Monday at 4 o'clock in the morning when desperately trying to finish that essay over 3 cups of coffee (sighs). Oh well, you could make it better by giving me some nice reviews (hint, hint). Anywayz! I hope you like it, and I'm afraid I'll have to say to not expect an update too soon (hides behind chair). Damn, professors and their millions essay … Anyway, enough of my rambling. Enjoy the read and see ya next time, folks!

"This isn't English Lit." She said as she fiddled with a loose thread of her sweater.

"I know that." I chuckled lightly.

"You don't have to sit here. I'm fine, really. I'm sure Miss Lapdog needs you more." She scoffed.

"You're right, I don't have to sit here. But I want to. Besides, Miss 'Lapdog' isn't too keen of me right now, me thinks." I said, referring her to the distance Hazel has taken every since their caf-altercation

"Everybody's staring."

"Alex, I don't care that everybody's staring. I really don't." I replied truthfully.

"Paige and Alex, can you please leave your pesky arguments for after class." Mister Walton asked harshly, growing tired of our whispering.

"Oh, we weren't arguing." I clarified.

"Right. Then please, Paige. Tell me what you were doing?" he asked annoyed.

"Uhm. Alex isn't feeling too well. I think she needs some fresh air." I lied.

I could feel her eyes practically burning hole in my face.

"Well, I think Alex is old enough to talk for herself and ask for a breather if she isn't fairing too well."

"Yeah, if you want to risk having her vomit all across the floor." I sniggered.

"Alright." He sighed." Alex, you can leave class for this hour, there isn't anything major you'll be missing. If it doesn't get any better, check with Nurse Voigt."

"I'll go with her."

"No, you'll stay. Alex is sick, you are not." He said sternly.

"Sir, do you really want to jeopardise her health and your rep by dismissing an ill student unguarded? I mean, what if she faints in the middle of the hallways and nobody is there to take care of her?" I asked overly dramatic.

He glared at me, while roughly massaging his temples with the tip of his fingers. This was going to be a close call.

"Just leave, please. Leave, before I grow some logic and change my mind on all of this." He sighed defeated.

Alex and I quickly retrieved our belongings and jumped from our desks, only to sprint towards the door before he could change his mind. As soon as we left the classroom and entered the hallway Alex tugged at my hand and lead me behind a corner, bringing us out of eye-sight of any teacher.

"What the hell was that?" she asked shocked.

"Please, like you really wanted to hear another hour of Walton's yanking about math-problems." I rolled my eyes.

"You're right. I don't. But that little scene there wasn't necessary. We could've just skipped class the old-fashioned way, if you had told me." She stated annoyed.

"And where's the fun in that." I smirked.

She rolled her eyes in disbelief before forming a smirk of her own.

"I thought you weren't a skipper."

"Well, I can't help it. Some vicious girl, empoisoned my sweet persona." I said in mock-innocence.

"Gee, I wonder who …"

"Let's get outta here." I said while pushing her towards the exit. She immediately winced and clutched her side in pain.

"Alex, what's wrong?" I asked worried, taking a few steps towards her.

"N-nothing." She said as she carefully backed away from me.

"Alex, just-"

"I have to go to the bathroom." She quickly rambled, as she hurriedly made her way to the restroom.

I sighed at her sudden closeted posture towards me, but quickly followed suit. I entered the bathroom and found her huddled over a lavatory. I am momentarily taken back in time as I recall a close to same scene a few weeks ago. It seemed like years since I confronted her with the truth. Since I shakily tried to make out why on earth my archrival made a move on me in the obscurity of the night, only to firmly deny it afterwards. Since I questioned why I cared so much to find out. Since I didn't freak out like I normally would've. Since I … since I started falling for her.

I vigilantly took a few steps towards her and situated myself right behind her. She was still hunched over the sink, hiding from me. Hiding from the truth.

I gently placed my hands on hers, careful not to startle her, and I instantly felt the tremor in her body.

"Alex, what's wrong?" I quietly ask.

She kept silently in her bent posture, not giving in to my presence yet.

"Alex, please .." I softly plead. She leisurely lifts her head and looks up into the mirror in front of her, meeting the reflection of my concerned eyes. We gaze at each other for moments, and I can't help but wonder if one day I could erase the hollowness and soreness from those perfect features. It was in that moment that I realised I was constantly tackling the same situation.

Alex stuck in that deep and dark hole, helplessly all by herself. And as I reach out and I feel her hand clamp around mine, just when I'm about to pull her out, she slips. She slips back into the darkness. Back into to that agonizing fear. All alone. By herself.

She needs to be pulled out.

I need to pull her out.

I tenderly turned her around to face me, and we continued staring at each other directly in the eyes. Her eyes. My eyes. The source of all truths. You can hide as much as you want, for as long as you want. You can try, and you might even succeed. But one fine look in your eyes, and all the lies are shattered.

As I gazed in hers, and she gazed in mine, all our truths were shared. All our lies, small and large, were dispersed. Our secrets were no longer guarded. So many eyes, I've looked right through. So many eyes went by unnoticed. Letting a tale pass by, without even perceiving it.

I don't see through her, and she doesn't see through me. We see each other. We see our stories. We our reflections. Our past. Our present. Our future.

I slowly dropped myself to my knees, never losing contact with her eyes. I could feel her body tighten and relax, all at the same time. I cautiously lifted her sweater in agonizingly low manner. Fearing that if I jumped a couple beats I'd hurt her. And at the same time, I was giving her the chance to walk away from this. To walk away from me.

Her breath was ragged, but she didn't leave me.

She was trusting me.

Bruises were spread all over her. Small and large marks were draped over her stomach, her ribs, her waist. Some of them freshly put, marked by their dark blue shade. Others, already fading to a yellow and greenish tint. The different shades stood in large contrast with the pale colour of her own silky skin. I hesitantly brought up my hand, and mildly traced all of it.

The bruises, the marks, the pain, the hurt, the anguish. Her stomach slowly rose up and down, marking her inhalation. But even more so, marking both her comfort and distress.

I retreated my hand to her waist, and looked up to her face. She was watching me. She was looking in my eyes, and reading my story. And I was reading hers.

I brought my lips to her stomach and began spreading the softest of kisses on every inch of her exposed skin.

"Paige …" She whispered contently.

Every feathery kiss was followed by a sharp intake of breath, and somewhere it the middle of it all, her hands buried in my hair and made my head stay in place, afraid that I was going to retreat too soon. After a near endless journey of my lips on her flesh, I drew back and pressed my cheek to her exposed abdomen. As I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation of warm skin underneath mine and her soothing inhalation, I felt her fingers loosely threading through my locks.

She was letting me in.

And I was pulling her out.