[seventy]

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Alex's POV

"Why the hell did you just do that?" Indi choked out, looking at me with wide, incredulous eyes.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and drew her lips close to mine.  "Because I should have done it a long time ago."

Our lips met and I wasn't sure which one of us had moved in first.  But by the way she tangled her hands in my hair and pushed herself up against me, I was guessing it had been her.

Fuck.  This girl was going to be the death of me. 

"I want to hear it," she said breathlessly, pulling back after a moment.  

I was too focused on wanting to kiss her again to even register what she was saying.  I tried to pull her back to me, but she shifted away.

"Alex," she murmured.  "I want to hear it."

"Hear what?"

She took a deep breath.  "AM."

I stopped dead.  "What?"

"You heard me," she said.  "I just... I really think I should hear it before anything else happens between us."

"Why's that?"

Her slightly blue lips turned up a little at this.  "Because I have to know that if you're going to break my heart again, you'll at least write some good music about it."

She was smiling faintly, but her eyes looked a bit sad.  

"I won't break your heart again," I told her, desperately wanting that look in her eyes to disappear.   "Not on purpose, at least."

"Your words don't mean shit to me, Turner," she said, standing up and offering her hand.  "Let the music do the talking."

I took her hand and stood up, but she immediately retracted it when I was on my feet.  I studied her, perplexed by her paradoxical nature.  

She wanted me, but she didn't.  She was caring, but cold.  She was beautiful, but absolutely disastrous.  

She made me feel like I was drunk all the time; like I didn't know left from right and right from wrong.  She made me feel a certain way that was impossible for me to feel with anyone else.

We made our way to the car, and I was itching to get back to her apartment.  She needed to hear the album and I needed her to hear just what she did to me.  

Maybe it would fix things, or maybe it wouldn't.  All I knew was that each passing moment that she wasn't mine felt torturously long.  

I needed her, knowing full well that she didn't need me in the slightest.  And I wanted her, knowing full well that it was a tragic mistake.

But then she looked over at me, the setting sun lighting up her face in a glowing orange hue, and all at once I felt myself crumble. 

And it was then that I decided I would have her, or I would have nobody at all. 

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