the end of the fucking world; season 2

one; alyssa

Fuck. This.

I hate this place. I fucking hate this place.

Looking around at the bare white walls, I rub the side of my head and wince as my hand catches on the lump situated there. Well, that really hurts. Shouldn't they have, like, bandaged it up or something? Or they at least should've had a look at it, right?

I don't know how long I've been here, but it hasn't gotten dark yet so maybe a couple of hours. . . I'm not sure. It feels like forever. Feels like forever since I stabbed Leslie in the leg and knocked out DC Noon. Feels like forever since I was on that beach, racing towards the boat as fast as I could, my hands clasping the keys tight. Feels like forever since I felt the sand on my bare legs as I turned my head to watch him run beside me.

Feels like forever since I saw James.

A lump forms in my throat. I don't know how many times I've cried since this morning. I look up towards the ceiling, trying to stop my eyes from overflowing with tears, but they come anyway. I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs.

Is he okay?

I think about his stupid, beautiful face and the way he kissed me last night on the beach. I don't think I've ever felt love before James. True, pure love. And I don't think anyone's ever really loved me before, not properly. I really thought we could make it, I thought we could run away and never be found and change our names and live our lives out together. I really wanted to make it.

So stupid.

I'm so exhausted, but I know they'll want to speak to me soon. God, I hope it's not DC Noon. She'll probably be cross with me for hitting her over the head with a gun, but I suppose I understand why. She'll probably want me to apologise. I know I should but, well, I know I won't. I find it really hard to apologise, even when I know the shit I've done is stupid.

I look down at my right wrist, tracing over the bruise on it with my eyes. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of him. Professor Clive Koch.

He was a koch, alright.

Surely they won't give James into trouble. I mean, the guy was a serial rapist. He was going to rape me. They won't give James into trouble, they won't.

Well, that's if James is even still alive.

The tears return and I wipe them away frantically. I think about his body pressed on mine, his lips against my own. I think about his dumb little smile, and it brings a half-arsed one to my own face. I pick at the loose threads on the thin mattress below me and think about him some more.

God, he's really fucking beautiful.

Footsteps?

Footsteps. I roughly wipe my eyes to get rid of the tears and wrap my arms back around my legs protectively. My mouth drops into a straight line and I try my best to look emotionless as the footsteps get closer and closer. I squeeze my eyes shut and lean my head back against the wall.

A key twists in the lock of the cell door and I hear the door swing open.

"Alyssa," a quiet, calm voice says. I open my eyes and roll them as the voice registers with me. Dropping my head, I make eye contact with DC Noon. She smiles ever so slightly. "Hi."

"Y'alright?" I say.

"I'm alright." She crosses the room and sits in one of the chairs. It's next to a large, long table which has another chair at the opposite end from DC Noon. She motions with a slight head movement towards the other chair.