Axel

48

I S A B E L L A

The photo stares at me from the corner of my eye when i catch a glimpse of it, so i turn over bringing the covers up to my chin- reminded that it's there.

It's thin, long and hangs on my vanity mirror. I stare at my own face that's shaded in black and white, where my cheeks reach my eyes because my smile is so wide, where my eyes sparkle in joy, where my head is leaning against his and he stares at the camera trying to hold his smile.

My eyes skim down to the bottom, at the last picture where he kisses my neck and i smile like a kid in a sweet shop. My hand holds his neck and i feel myself remembering how his skin felt, how it smelt, and it's warmth.

I roll over, shielding my vision from the photo that's moments away for having me burst into tears. I remember that photo booth like it was yesterday, i remember vowing to stick by him through it all just the night before. I remember how something shifted between us that night - something magical.

And now i can't sleep. I haven't been able to for the past week, not since that night. And especially not since the morning after, when Ronan knocked on my door and told me he found him high, passed out and in a puddle of his own vomit.

He relapsed, and i felt a part of me leave with his sobriety.

That morning i broke down in front of him, where he cried with me on my bedroom floor, in his arms at the discovery of Axels relapse. A relapse i knew was going to happen, but nevertheless broke me even more than i'd imagine.

He held me tight, kissed my forehead and stayed with me until i fell asleep where he whispered in my ear — "Sleep, i'll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you."

Ronan refused to tell me how bad Axel was, maybe because he knew i'd blame myself for it or maybe because he could hardly keep in his own tears when speaking about the man that saved him, and the man that he considered his brother.

We haven't spoke about him since that morning a week ago, not just because i sob at the mention of him but because i know he's bad - worse than he was last time - even if everyone is refusing to tell me how he is, even if they lie to me. I just know.

Besides that, i force myself to get up, i force myself to eat, to get changed, to leave my house and to work. I force myself to live without him.

And with a heavy heart i walk to work, because it's the only thing i can do to keep my mind of things. If i lay in my bed any longer and neglect my life, i'll fall into a hole i won't be able to escape, until i rot and decay.

And i have bills to pay, bills i cannot afford. If i continue sitting in a pool of my tears i'll get evicted, and i can already hardly afford to feed myself. On top of that, Bradley is threatening to fire me due to my poor reability these past few weeks.

Lucy greets me at the cafe door, and i hate the look in her eyes. She looks at me with pity and a sad smile, and she's careful around me as if i'll break any moment.

"How are you, my love? Get any sleep?" She asks, with a smile on her face and her arms around me, just like a loving mother. Her welcoming smile and warm hug reminds of the woman i wished was here to help me through my first heartbreak.

"Yes." I lie, and walk over to the apron rack. She watches me put on the apron and helps me tie it when she notices me struggling.