Run. || Alex Gaskarth A.U.

Chapter 3: The Unforgettable Tear In The Jacket

It's cold in the room.

I wish they'd turn on the heat, although, ironically, when the bomb goes off, I'll be burnt to a crisp. But that's not for a while (I think), and Alex's jacket isn't as snug as I thought it would be.

Yes Alex, I stole your God damned jacket. It still smells like you, that beautiful honeycomb scent that makes my head spin and my chest ache for you.

Fuck you, Alex.

Fuck you.

Here I am, the Grim Reaper looming over me, and all I can think about is you, and how cold and miserable I am without you here.

I must be going crazy. Am I seriously talking to myself about you? Am I really acting like you can hear me quite clearly in your mind?

I guess I am.

But who can blame me really? You have literally driven me right past my breaking point, and now, here I am, toeing the chalk line of my sanity, all because of the fucking stunt you pulled on me.

How. Fucking. Dare. You.

I let out a tired breath and stare down at the faded black jacket that is much too creased and much too crinkled. I take in the blood stains marring it, and the fact that the right sleeve is torn.

I focus my eyes and all of my remaining energy on the ripped sleeve of the jacket.

It's my fault that it's like that.

But it's his fault that I'm here wearing it.

~

By the time dawn came, Alex had come to the conclusion that my ankle was simply sprained, and it would take a few days for it to heal completely.

I was furious when he told me, I was furious at the fact that I had managed to injure myself, making me look a hell lot weaker than I actually was. Perhaps I was slightly thirsty to prove myself in front of the new and improved Alex, and the fact that he had saved my life the previous night was really damaging my pride.

Or maybe I was jealous of him. I can't quite remember.

But due to my ankle being quite swelled, our travelling slowed down to nearly a snail's pace. Alex had to carry the backpack that he had brought for me on top of his own, and I could barely walk.

Basically, if the Government had of jumped us right there and then, we'd have been dead in a second. Alex would be too tired to fight, and I would be a goner with my ankle.

But that didn't stop Alex from insisting that we keep travelling. He was very enthusiastic about reaching our destination (that he still had yet to tell me), but I was getting sick and tired of Alex and his secrecy. I was still mad at him from last night, and if my sour glares directed at him weren't enough for him to get the hint, then I don't know what was.

Maybe he was trying to help mend our burning bridge at the time, but I was (and still am) a stubborn girl who can hold a grudge like nobody's business.

And I think it was really getting to him.

He tried small talk at first, asking me questions about home. For example; "Does Mrs.Indigo still bake the best bread in the village? Or maybe asking about Susie, an old friend who had been besotted with Alex the minute she had laid her eyes on him.

I answered him coolly, mostly sticking to 'yes' and 'no'. I was in no mood for repairing a bridge that I thought had disconnected a long time ago. It was unfair that Alex believed that I would have just forgave him because of a warm smile and an optimistic attitude.