Stockholm Syndrome (Jalex)

Day Fourteen

Jack. Day Fourteen - 20:48

"Alex!" His name left my lips harsh and scared like a warning signal, but I gained little response as my boyfriend's head dipped into the sink once again. It was horrible to watch, but I couldn't just look away and leave him.

Retching sounds reverberated between walls of the enclosed kitchenette as he threw up into the kitchen sink. It was disgusting, but my concern for the boy had overdriven my dislike for sick entirely, my brain rewiring itself into a terrible state of co-dependency.

Co-dependency really was a perplexing matter, and not one to be taken lightly by any means. Co-dependency really could break or make someone and right now, I found myself directly amidst that curse. Not that I found myself minding that much, because well, Alex was Alex and I was far too attached to the guy for my own good.

"Jacky, I'm fine-" He mumbled groggily, his words coming to a halt for reasons I didn't quite want to imagine. For a 'fine' guy, he was puking in our sink an awful lot, or was that just me. I didn't know.

"You're quite clearly not... we were cuddling and then-" I just looked at his hunched over state in disbelief. I just couldn't quite understand how he was now puking his guts out within seconds. The world just had an awful habit of not adding up like that.

"I wouldn't say cuddling-" He defended a point with no valid reason. Alex was just stupidly stubborn like that, though. It was a quality I'd grown a rather strong love/hate relationship with.

I loved the fact that he always questioned everything and never quite let anything past him unanswered, but if you flip the coin, it can be just the most annoying quality in the whole goddamn world.

"I would, Alex. I would!" I protested; my protest had reason at the very least. Now that just sounds pretentious, but it's not like I care. Well maybe I do, maybe I do actually care a hell of a lot.

He sighed and pulled his head up, and it was clear that he really wasn't in the best of states, as he looked up at me with sorry and defeated eyes. He wasn't okay - that was clear. Getting him to admit it would be another matter entirely though.

"You're ill, Lex." I held out my hand and he took it, gripping tightly to my flustered palm as I grabbed a dishcloth and wiped his face clean of god knows what. I didn't quite want to touch his face, but this was necessary and to not would be an asshole thing to do.

"I-I'm not, I'm getting better." His voice was stern, but his voice cracked almost as if he wasn't quite sure of his words, or if he was simply lying to himself, which I severely suspected was in fact the case.

"You're not, Lex. You weren't puking yesterday." He just grimaced at me as if I was far off the point and heaved himself up onto a barstool, throwing himself back against the wall. I didn't want this mess; neither of us did - I just wanted him to be magically better, but it was evident that things simply didn't quite work that way.

"I'm better than I was yesterday - I promise." That was a complete and utter lie, but on the off chance it wasn't, I found myself in a situation to be severely concerned

"If you're like this today then how bad were you yesterday?" I cocked one eyebrow up, doubting every word that departed from those lips of his and wondering why. I shouldn't be in a situation like this, with Alex of all people. I was supposed to trust him, he was supposed to trust me; we were supposed to trust each other, but he was clearly hiding something from me.

I didn't like that at all; I didn't want to be a nosy bitch, but this was important, because with Alex secrets tended to be secret for a reason and an awfully good one at that.