"Over a Book" [MODERN HAMLIZA]

"It's quiet uptown" - Chapter 23

With each, hurried step of her feet, up to each flight of stairs, her heart rate matches the pace. Thrumming against her chest, knocking consistently and wracking her to the bone.

Eliza was so, so scared.

She didn't even know what she was going to so. She'd planned to say so much, to do so much. She'd thought out entire speeches, different actions - most of which consisted of hitting Alexander around the back of the head -, but she could never decide on just one.

She wanted to seem strong. Stronger than him. Make him feel guilty. If she messed it up... then what? She'd feel guilty, ashamed of herself for not being able to face her fears.

She found herself at the door of her own apartment quicker than she'd wanted to be, and paused outside, her hand hesitating over the lock with the key in hand. Taking a deep, shaking breath, she swung the door open and stepped inside. She didn't dare let her gaze wander from her feet, turning and shutting the door carefully before slipping the keys in her pocket.

She didn't know what kind of state Alexander was in, and though she trusted him, she couldn't entirely predict he'd be in a correct mindset right now. It'd be good to be able to defend herself if needed.

When she finally gained the courage to turn, she found the apartment was spotless. Cleaned, refreshed; windows are thrown open to filter out the stuffy scents and instead fill the apartment room with a chill, fresh breeze.

And, on the couch, was a blanket and a pillow, beneath the blanket, was Alexander's resting body. Asleep.

Why didn't he sleep in either of their rooms?

Eliza frowned and glanced over at the grocery bags set carefully on the countertop. Taking her coat off and transferring her keys to her other pocket, she walked over and began to unpack the groceries as quietly as possible.

There was a low groan from the couch and she paused, watching her hand tremble over a cupboard handle for a second.

"Why are you back?"

His low, gravelly tone echoed from the rugs. He shifted, but he didn't get up. He wasn't looking at her. Eliza gulped and swung the cupboard open, beginning to place things on the shelves.

"Didn't I tell you to leave?"

She furrowed her brows. No, he didn't. But she wasn't going to speak to him. He wasn't even looking at her.

"Oh, so you're not gonna talk to me now? You're really just a sick person, aren't you?"

Eliza tensed, anger flaring up inside of her. She's sick? I'm sick!?! She whipped her head around, mouth opening to confront him, just as he continued to speak.

"Come on, answer me, Maria."

Alexander growled the name 'Maria' with the most utmost fury, rising from the couch to turn and glare at Eliza, an unspeakable rage flashing over his expression. Eliza stared at him, taking in his appearance. He was ragged. Worn to the bone, his hair ruffled and messed up. He looked as though he hadn't properly bothered to dress himself or clean himself in a few days; his clothes back-to-front and baggy.

His posture dropped upon seeing she was not 'Maria'. His eyes widened and his shoulders slumped. Eliza dropped the jar she was putting away, thankfully not from too high, as it rolled away safely across the counter top.

Alexander's lips quivered anxiously, a small voice escaping him. "Betsey...?" When she didn't answer, he turned his head away, a hand raising to cover half of his face with his palm and to dig his fingers into his hair. "Ha, now I'm going insane," He laughed shakily.