The Night School [GxG] [First Draft Edition]

Chapter Fifty-Nine : Why Hazel Should Be On Broadway

Hazel and I went on talking for a long while about nothing in particular. I learned that she loves animals (with a few exceptions like most monkeys and the range of dogs epitomized by a Chihuahua), she has never had chocolate because of her chitin allergy (which I found extremely gross and funny, considering what she said when she explained that chitin wasn't in chocolate naturally, any why it was in most commercial chocolate products), she hates the cold, she gets panic attacks on occasion when she in a tight or artificially lit place (yes, she told me, like the Night School), she has a very bad fear of needles, Megan has to physically force her into a dress for special occasions (but has stopped and allowed Hazel to wear suits after an incident with a perverted twelve year old boy trying to sneak up her dress at Megan's boyfriend's mom's wedding- and the kid somehow ended up running away screaming when Hazel pulled a knife. She justified it by saying that she was still to early out of the Academy to consider that the boy was just a twelve year old probably just barely entering puberty- who was being an asshole pervert, but was a twelve year old. I frowned and took a breath to go on an agism rant, but I couldn't disagree with Hazel because she was trying to make my point. If a kid tries to crawl up your dress, age and sex aren't excuses.), and that she absolutely loves scented candles.

Apparently, Megan had taken her out to a Yankee Candle department store -owned by a friend who'd let the ex-Acedemy agent roam the store on a day where the building was closed and no one would see her- or something for their first birthday together since Hazel started siding with Alexa, and Hazel, brainwashed and unstable from the Academy, had found some kind of peace of mind with the fires and the different scents. Made sense to me, considering how sharp Hazel's sense of smell seemed to be.

What I found heart wrenchingly cute and altogether overwhelming was that she also said that she associated some of her prior foundations of emotion with different scented candles. She remembered that she'd assigned all that she felt towards Alexa to a candle that was supposedly a limited time product and had long since vanished from existence. And Hazel told me that Megan was jasmine. She thought that jasmine was what Megan's personality reminded her of, and she loved the scent. She also said that Megan didn't know about this ritual, and still has no idea of it today. Which translated to: oh my god, Hazel told me something even Megan doesn't know!

Anyway, we'd ended up relocating to the living room after I realized that if my parents showed up and we were alone in the bedroom, they'd get a bad idea when I told them that Hazel was now my girlfriend. We were sitting on the comfy three person couch, Hazel curled up with her head on my lap; me pretending to watch The Lion King 1 1/2, while Hazel didn't object to me playing with
her silken hair. I think she fell asleep, considering how quiet she was, and her eyes were closed. She even let me touch her face and shoulder without so much as flinching. She actually only moved to breathe, make a sleepy noise that was just as cute or more cute than a room full of kittens (okay, nothing is cuter than the kittens. But Hazel was right up there), or to try to move closer to me.

She was just too much for me. How did the woman who dislocated my friend's arm, told me to leave her alone, and claimed on many occasions that her kisses were without emotion- how did the same woman end up sleeping beside me, in my home, in my heart? I wonder if I would be able to get over her if she left me right now. Maybe I could survive.

Watching her peaceful figure, I could only remind myself over and over what a beautiful creature she was. A tattered, broken, crippled creature with such a person unlike any other. And she was beautiful. And I felt the abyss of my emotions draw closer and closer like a looming high tide.

It occurred to me that she'd physically attacked some of my friends, and verbally attacked others, but I couldn't remember a time when she'd been purposefully mean to me. Sure, she'd pinned me to a few walls but that was because Hazel was a very jealous sort of being. From the start, she said she didn't want me as an enemy- she just didn't know how to say so nicely. And I found it hard to believe that she ever hated me because I'd been furious and frustrated and hurt by her, but never really hated her. The line between my feelings for Hazel, and feelings synonymous to hatred for Hazel, was always unclear- but how could I really hate her? Asleep and relaxed, she looked like perfection. And I couldn't imagine having the audacity to hate the beautiful woman- not after all I've learned about her.