steady ~

Adelaide Addie Lila Leroux 30 | empath

[addielerouxx]

alexander-anders‌:

He could have gone on pretending neither of them were awake, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good. He hummed first in greeting, waiting for thoughts to turn into words in his mouth before he bothered to open it. Waking up was a complicated thing of digging around and deciding how much he was himself and how much he was the demons. Despite the past night, there was more of him present than usual, tethered to the woman lying next to him, keeping him steady. “Morning,” he managed in something vaguely similar to a real word. There was no energy or clarity to stop her as she pressed in, and very little desire to, to top that. He hummed again, the closest he would get to agreeing with the rest of her statement and allowed his eyes to shut once more, to pretend that this moment belonged to him. 

She was so loud and worried and streaked with red and it was spilling onto him far too early in the morning. “Thoughts are traffic through a quiet town, breaking through the peace.” He wasn’t in any mood to dive right into all the things he should be thinking or doing already, how he ought to make his exit. It was hard not to think of those things, though, with how loudly she was projecting her expectations, devolving into thoughts of her cat and breakfast and a whole spiral of concern and fear and protectiveness making an awkward piece of art from the colors she was hemorrhaging. 

“Morning is not a time for rainbows.” As if that would be enough to calm her. He wanted to reach out for her again and pull her back in, but that was crawling further down the rabbit hole that was only going to hurt them both in the end (weren’t they already that deep anyway, thought?). Mostly, he just wanted the peaceful morning sleepiness she’d had before this had become her focus. It was dragging him out of his own sleepiness and into the wakefulness that he knew would only bring regret and uncomfortable choices. 

And now she was the one chiding him for starting to early, and he hadn’t started yet. “Putting up stop signs before the car is running.” He told her, more bemused than anything. Everything had to be an argument, with the two of them. 

Goodness, the look on his face. She couldn’t quite describe what it was exactly about the way he was looking at her, but a gentle forget-me-not blue radiated off of him in such fluid waves that she could almost drown in them if she wanted to. For the first time ever, he didn’t seem hellbent on stopping her from being close to him. She was most certainly not going to pass up the chance to just exist with this man She’d been pushing for this for what felt like ages; in reality, it’d been a handful of weeks.

Addie knew she was getting ahead of herself. She’d be lying if she said that wasn’t par for the course with her thought. While often reckless or chaotic, she did worry about her choices. Yes, move to Paris. And as soon as she boarded the plane and they locked the doors, she’d looked at flights back home. Of course, she had stayed. That had caused a whole other mess of problems, including Christian. But it also brought her good things. 

His voice, grizzled and deep, drew her from her own thoughts yet again. She pushed herself up and half shrugged, smiling brightly. “You of all people should know that’s what I do...” He was privy to every thought and intention that floated through her head. She always got ahead of herself; that was part of her charm?

Without much thought, she moved back to lay down, resting a hand on his chest. She pressed her lips against his shoulder. Her eyes still on him, she reached up just slightly and ran her thumb down his jawline, into his scruff and just smiled: soft, gentle, and warm. Butterflies was as cliché as she could get right now but how else was she supposed to describe the feeling in her stomach? And all she wanted to do was kiss -- stop! She caught herself but the thought was already out in the open and all she could do was smile, a scoff leaving her lips. 

[addielerouxx]

alexander-anders‌:

Alex thought that this was what surrender must feel like. He couldn’t fight her anymore, not tonight. He resigned himself to the idea of passing the night here, with her firmly tucked against him, and for all his effort, he couldn’t quite convince himself that was a bad thing. There was no denying the fact that this felt right. That was a dangerous thought, but it was the one he had been edging around all night. It was harder to deny with Addie’s fingers knotted into his sweater, nails scraping against him. He could spend an eternity in this moment, pretending nothing else existed and still dreading the moment when that eternity would end. 

He hummed out a nonverbal reply, not even attempting to put meaning into it. Her wave of exhaustion might as well have been in his own, as he gave into the concept of staying. They could always fight later - Addie would likely make sure of that. For now though, he gave into the tiredness pulling at his bones, hoping that he could sleep heavily enough that his nightmares wouldn’t make their way into the rest of the room. If he could just stay quiet, that would be enough. He had subjected Addie to enough of those screaming fits early on, the last thing he wanted was to wake her from a dead sleep while he was lying right next to her. Then, with her slowly going limp against him, Alex wondered if he would dream at all. 

_____

He did dream. Distantly. The memory of it was a humid purple haze of sitting under a tree, in the grass with a hand in his. Past that he was only left with a dimly pleasant feeling that he couldn’t remember ever waking up with. It could have been his dream or Addie’s dream that he had stumbled upon, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was a good feeling to wake up warm and peaceful, the source of the feeling resting against him. He faded in and out of consciousness for the rest of the morning, well past the time that he usually was driven out of his bed either by sleeplessness or a fear of continued nightmares. At some point, a third presence joined, his sleep-addled mind dimly recognizing an inhuman line of thought that was mostly incoherent and seeking warmth. He faded back out, and when he came back, he couldn’t say what had woken him. 

Maybe just a little longer, he thought. No, that wasn’t him. His thoughts didn’t order themselves so clearly. Eyes peeled open to a half-lidded gaze downwards, finding only a pile of dark, mess hair. A sleepy smile took up residence on his face before he could stop it, and he shut his eyes again. He could breathe easy at the moment and he no part of him wanted to leave that easy, peaceful feeling. Of course he would, as wakefulness set in and he remembered all the reasons he should leave. For now thought, he was content to drape both arms around Addie’s back and simply breathe. 

In the half awake state she was currently floating in, she felt the shift of Alex’s consciousness; she could try to ignore it but he would only know she was doing it and that seemed silly. With that thought, she blinked a few times in rapid succession, the sunlight hurting her eyes as she did. “Mmmm. G’morning. I slept far better than I have in a while.” She arched her back and Oscar mewed quietly in protest. Apparently she’d moved too much in stretching. When Addie’s eyes finally settled on Alex, she felt like an absolute idiot. The smile she was fighting was far past the point where she could hide it and she immediately went to burry her face in his shoulder, her nose smushing against him softly.

She felt like she was 15. Except when she was 15, the most she’d done with a boy was hold hands. This was nothing like being 15. Perhaps it was the lightness in her chest that made her feel that way. Despite the fact that they were in dim sunlight would not hide the fact that she was far too happy about their current predicament (surely Alex would think it was a predicament as opposed to something good). 

In the following moments, she realized her arm was still draped across him and she immediately retracted it, pulling both hands into her own chest as she lay there, silent, next to him. Though her head was racing with all of the things she could say that he was inevitably hearing because, well, Alex heard everything. Stay for breakfast. Don’t go. Let’s go back to sleep? Oscar will forever hold it against you if you leave and by Oscar I mean me. I’m anthropomorphizing my cat. 

Please don’t run off. 

Instead, Addie just smily, softly, further away from Alex that she would have liked but next to him nonetheless. She wasn’t due to go into the cafe today and she was hopeful that Alex didn’t have to be anywhere either. Nothing was stopping them from just not getting up, right? Nothing but Alex’s serious intent to stop them fro enjoying each other’s company. Perhaps after last night he would be less inclined to just say no to say no. She knew that wasn’t what he was doing, in reality, but goodness, did it sure feel like that when they’d gotten into their argument a couple of weeks ago. She wrinkled her nose at him, knowing he had heard her entire exposition just then. "Don’t you even start. It’s too early for all of that.”

[addielerouxx]

alex ’n’ addie, a progression in moodboard style

[addielerouxx]

captainxxjames‌:

It was no Tinkerbell, at least. But any fae who took to human form and so easily walked through a human establishment was assuredly as bad as Tinkerbell and James found himself steadying for a long night. For once, it seemed his reputation did not precede him, and that was unfortunate. He had spent a good many centuries crafting careful name for himself that would draw this unspoken line and give him reprieve from the people around him, only for all that work to go to utter waste when someone hadn’t heard any of it. Or maybe she simply hadn’t realized who he was. He shifted his right arm in case that was the problem, sure enough to make the light glint off the hook that occupied the end of his arm. 

“I’ve never much cared what it is I’m talking to,” at the route of this conversation, James did finally reach for the inner pocket of his coat and draw out the slim silver flask he kept there, unscrewing the top and taking a long swig. The coarse drink washed down his throat and he finished with a tired sigh. He screwed the cap back on, and flicked his eyes to the man who had just bothered to reach into his very wide personal bubble in order to grope the new fae. He shifted forward, enough out of the shadows to catch the man’s eye. “D’you want to rethink touching a person in my corner?” He asked, lowly. The face paled and faded back into the crowd. Clearly, he needed to do something to remind people of who he was, as this was two people now who had stepped a little too close. 

“Women have every right to buy a drink in this place, lass. I don’t think you’d appreciate my holding your hand,” again, he drew attention to the hook, tapping it against the wooden table. Not the first woman to imply he could buy her a drink, but this one he feared hadn’t the slightest idea of where her implications could (and undoubtedly would) lead if she had picked anyone else. 

She knew he was looking at the hook that sat on the end of his arm in place of a hand. What he didn’t seem to realize was that she’d seen plenty where she was from. She was no stranger to oddities and things that didn’t really make sense. Not only could Addie see the aggravated turquoise on the man in front of her, she could nearly smell it. And is smelled of wilted seaweed, stale whiskey, and burnt wood. It was unpleasant but it wasn’t him, it was whatever he was thinking of as he sized her up. She rested her hands on her hips as he reached for something in his inner coat pocket. “What it is you’re talking to? I see you don’t care much for formalities. I’m Adelaide but most people call me Addie.” She lowered one hand from her side looked at his attire, trying to figure out if she’d seem him before. The long and the short of it was, she honestly couldn’t remember. Addie left forest on few occasions and her bi-weekly escapade into town was one of them. Never the same night of the week but always when her favorites were working. Tonight, though, it’d been a different pub and a new set of people she didn’t usually see. 

Traveling into the human world in this form was not something she did regularly; it simply wasn’t smart. Every once in a while, sure, the fae would leave the forest and adventure off with their wings out and glitter (in all fairness, it was really pixie dust) falling onto every single surface it could reach as she did. Doing it too regularly though would undoubtedly lead to someone trying to snatch her up and hold her hostage. A single sentence from the man she’d approached sent whichever ant it was crawling back to the shadows. She tilted her head in acknowledgement of his help int hat matter but left it at that. No need to dwell when it hadn’t amounted to anything.

As he tapped the hook on the table, she lifted a brow. “I wasn’t insinuating that you buy me the drink…but you’re right. I don’t need your help to get a drink.” She whistled once through thinned lips and lifted her hand into the air with more than enough to cover the cost in coin between two extended fingers. “Double shot…straight. I’ll throw in the pixie dust myself.” Now speaking to the man in front of her, “did you want one? The dust’s on me.”

[addielerouxx]

alexander-anders‌:

It was the ease that was the hardest bit. She felt safe with him, and he couldn’t think of the last time someone had looked at him and decided he was the safest option around. Half a decade, maybe. He had once been the steady option, before. But that was the before, and he was in the after, and those seemed far too separate to reconcile with one another. At least, until Addie. If she felt he was safe now, he wondered what she would have thought of the before him. The one who was always calm hands and soothing voice and knew what to do when pressure fell. He had been unshakable, until he’d been shaken. Time had taught him not to miss what he had lost, but Addie made him miss a lot of things. He wanted to be who she thoughts he was, he wanted to be that man so badly, but there was this gap between who he was and who she thought he was and he knew all too well that the two would never meet. 

He hadn’t meant to spill that over to her. He tried so hard to keep her away from the things that would hurt, but it was hard to remember sometimes that she was privy to all the little thoughts that scrolled through his mind. He needed to be more careful, God-forbid something worse came to mind. It had threatened already, only determination and her hand in his enough to push the memories down and keep her safe from their grasping fingers. If him spending a year on the streets was enough to cause that fading green to reach up and strangle her purple curls, he hated to think what the rest could do to her. No, she deserved sunshine and healthy rains and warm summer afternoons. Not him, in his aching desert heat or piercing arctic cold. He bounced between extremes and she might be capable of weathering it, but she didn’t deserve to. 

He still felt guilty. It was his presence in her life which had brought about this mess, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he should have done differently. No, what he could have done differently while looking into Addie’s rounded eyes that demanded to be listened to. There was no telling her no. There was only regret and helplessness as he watched himself sink further into something that felt like it could be home. Every part of him wanted to claim it, to hold onto it and not let go because this. This had to be what people wrote songs about, didn’t it? No, his heart didn’t sing in her presence, his breathing didn’t speed up, there was no chaos around Addie. He had enough of that. Instead, it felt like time slowed in her presence. His heart rate settled into something easier and the chaos all slipped away, overwhelmed by rich, cascading purple. She was safe, too. 

Rebuttals readied on his tongue. He could think of every reason why she was wrong, every factor she hadn’t thought through, everything about himself that made him no good for her. She had to see it, he had to make her see it. She would have to understand that this thing would only result in more heartbreak and he was trying avoid future hurt. But every word of it up and left his brain the moment she spouted his full name in that tone. Despite every part of him telling him to explain to her in excruciating detail just what a disaster he was, he smiled. For a moment, he believed her. Alexander Anders. It felt as though she was saying somebody else’s name. “A match of stubbornness only proves how long two mountains will stand and glare.” He spoke, when he found his voice. After, he wasn’t sure what exactly he had been trying to say, only that he felt like he ought to say something and when he’d opened his mouth, those were the words to come out. And really, him and Addie could very well be two mountains standing and glaring for a millennium, if they lived long enough to. He saw no end to this stalemate dance they were engaged in and a funny part of him decidedly did not want to see an end to it. 

Alex didn’t know how it happened. One moment, there had been a safe distance between the two of them, and the next she had managed to work her way into him in such a way that his arm was around her and he didn’t remember putting it there. He had the misfortune of catching an image of her in his mind, in his sweater with more shoulder than he was comfortable with (or maybe just the right amount of shoulder) and a mug of tea, and honestly he felt a little robbed that he hadn’t been there to see it in person. No, that was another dangerous thought. No more dangerous, he presumed, than having her curled into her side, but that was a different kind of dangerous. This was more immediate, and still without any visible solution. 

It was that thought again and Alex was like to spontaneously combust if this kept on. He had grown so accustomed to seeing bodies in a medical sense, doing his job and separating himself from, well, other humans. It was easier that way, as a doctor, and he had never gotten out of the habit once he left. There was never much point to it, because it wasn’t like someone like him would need to see a human in any other way. But here was Addie, and here was his mind suddenly informing him of how very beautiful she was, as if he was discovering the meaning of that word for the first time, and it was currently curled in his arms and looking at him for all the world like he was supposed to kiss her. It ached a little, and he couldn’t decide why. He was full of everything he wanted to be and everything he wasn’t and in the end he pulled her into him and tucked her head under his chin and whispered quietly, “Want to be the man you see does not equate to being, and that wears like water against stone.” 

Addie had never known this before Alex he was imagining, though she could see him: shorter hair, less facial hair. Maybe he stood a little taller? Smiled a little more frequently? But the things that Alex seemed to notice had changed (for the worse in his mind) were things that she quite liked about the way he looked - she loved how his hair fell into his eyes and he the way he pushed it back; she liked the scraggly facial hair that he seemed to think was overgrown and unkempt. He was quiet, yes, but not shrunk down or small by any means. He was warm, safe, and comforting. Especially now. She’d been in such a space of hurt when he'd found her that even just being with her right now was more than enough. But he’d done more, tried to offer her help to clean her up that she’d turned down and handled herself. She wasn’t expecting anything in particular from him. That wasn’t who she was or who she'd ever been if he was intent on talking about past versions of himself. She was, though, getting her hopes up. That she was more than used to. She would build something (or someone) up and then when things fell apart, she struggled for a bit. But she always bounced back. She had to; there was no other choice.

Everyone had their darkness, the places of their mind that no one else was supposed to go. Addie had only ever dipped into a few people’s thoughts and it was usually other witches who could read minds - her father, mostly. If she hadn’t been so tired, Addie might have reached up in the moment and shaken him over feeling guilty about any of they interactions, even the argument. But she was tired and he seemed to know just how silly he was being, too. At least he was aware. Then, almost as soon as he settled on accepting whatever this was that they were doing, he backed out, head first down a tunnel that he might not come back up. She got her sunshine, her healthy rains, and the warm summer afternoons in the garden that he had worked so hard to make beautiful. Before Alex, what had they been? Sad spots of brown grass and a cement patio, if that? Just as suddenly as he'd dropped down that tunnel, he came back up, settling on the fact that she was safe and purple. Purple? Every instance that color had filtered through and she caught a glimpse of it, she realized just how warm it really was. She was happy to be such an inviting color to him. Why keep pushing me away then? A little sassy, sure, but she was built on sass and he didn't seem to mind much.

The best (or maybe worst?) part of this entire exchange was that she knew they both believed they would stay strong in their positions forever. The thing was, Addie knew she’d gain the upper hand somehow, if she hadn’t already with the way she as looking at him (that still left her dumb founded, honestly).

Focused now on a solution to the, in Alex's head, very real problem of her being curled into him, Addie was fairly positive that he very much wanted her where she was. Things were only dangerous if he liked them or wanted them. Things were safe if they followed the same routine he’d been living in until she showed up at his door. Apparently, just the though of kissing her was enough to make him spontaneously combust; she didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing but she was leaning toward a good thing.

He pulled her in and tucked her head into his body so gently that she could barely process his words but she managed. She nodded against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Her nails pulled against his chest as she went, unable to stop the emotional response to such a statement. She felt like she was being unfair in this moment - she was hurting him without meaning to. Water wearing against stone? It eventually wore the stone away. That wasn’t at all what she wanted to do.  No, she wanted…she wanted…she had no idea what she actually wanted in the long run. She had never been much of a planner, always living for the moment and the what if’s of life. Never had she planned ahead — going into the city? Bring some cash and let the wind take you where it may. Hell, when she moved to Paris in the first place she hadn’t found a job before moving. She didn't even know this house existed. It was only by the grace of Jack that she'd found it to begin with.

Now, though, she was beginning to wonder if her grandfather had been right about his plea for her to go to Paris. No, that was silly, right? Surely he hadn't meant a person, another living human being when he told her of the thing she’d find to help her in Paris. She’d gown to know that folks who had such intense feelings of intuition were purposely vague. They were never going to give you the full story; part of the final story was how you got there and being told every step from the get go was no story.

Tilting her head just enough to look at him, she pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, “if you say so…” She wasn’t so sure though. But even just the thought of her grandfather’s suggestion in her currently state was enough to send her over the edge of tired to exhausted. She shifted slightly, only to end up closer to Alex, somehow. She wasn’t going to argue with him anymore; he was staying here, next to her, and she was falling asleep. Surely, he’d be close behind her. At least, she hoped as much. Her eye shut slowly, taking in a big breath as she nodded off in his arms. — A few times during the night, she woke up. The first time, it had been softly, her eyes fluttering awake to find that Alex had wrapped his arm around her tighter and fallen asleep against her; his chest was rising and falling slowly, peacefully. The second time, it was because Oscar had joined them, nestling himself into the nook behind Addie’s back. He jumped up, curled up, and purred until she slipped back to sleep. The third time was when the light began to break through the curtain. She was still next to Alex, though her arm had fallen across his torso at some point. It was morning and she had a pounding headache. Crying like she had last night usually did that to her. As she lay there, refusing to move, she wondered how long he would sleep. She hoped he would just stay there, enveloping her in warmth for just a while longer. She was too comfortable and still too groggy to move. Maybe just a little longer…

[addielerouxx]

captainxxjames‌:

The port tavern was exactly the sort one might expect the worst kind of folk to hang around. Dirt roads filled with potholes and stagnant rainwater outside and above the front of the tavern hung a sign that might have been more crude, before the weather had worn away the details of the picture. On the other side of the street lay a market mostly empty in the moonlight, and past that, the docks filled with ships of all shapes and sizes. It could have been a peaceful picture, were it not for the excessive number of drunk sailors who made a habit of occupying the nighttime hours of the street. 

Dim lanterns hung at uneven intervals along the street, and inside the tavern earlier mentioned, music, light and sailors too deep in the drink spilled out the door. Take a step inside and the music turned from muted revelry to an off-key piano with several people shouting (not so much singing) a sea shanty. Walk further along the bar to men shouting for drinks, women sitting on laps and other women with eyes like daggers who only dared a man to suggest it. Only in the far back corner is there a table sat with a wide emptiness around it, as though there’s an invisible line drawn five feet from out from it which nobody’s dares to cross. At the table is a hook with a man (others might say a man with a hook, but they would be wrong). 

Most in the tavern know him by Hook. Perhaps Captain, if they belong to his ship. Still, it is James who sits at the table, sharp blue eyes keeping watch over the rowdy crowd of the tavern, mug in his remaining hand. There is a flask in his pocket as well, but he hasn’t been driven to drink from that yet. He watches, instead, the sailors and merchants and pirates come and go. The evening, for the most part, is average. Strange creatures inhabit the South, and all manner of them slither in and out in the time it takes him to drain his current mug plus two more. The purple thing that flits in isn’t cause for much concern, except that James has felt an unnecessary compulsion to keep an eye on any faerie in his radius. Especially one so clearly intent on making poor decisions as this one is, clearly unaware of the eyes turned her way as she proceeds to inspect every inch of the crowded tavern. There’s a few men taking interest of the fae girl, her as unaware as ever, and James is beginning to form up a reason (it must be a diabolical one) in his head to remove her from the bar when she finds him instead and she steps across the invisible five foot line that separates him from the rest of the bar. 

Uneasy glances cast their way as James arches a dark eyebrow. “I’d suggest ye run back to whatever hollow it is you escaped from,” he warned, even as she took no heed of the very clear, though unspoken, ‘do not pass’ sign. 

@addielerouxx

Plenty of people had warned her about this side of town and she’d chosen to ignore them completely. Addie Leroux was more than capable to handling herself, thank you very much. Thugs and pirates didn’t scare her and neither did the smell of vomit or urine. She’d wanted to get away from the stuffiness of the elders demanding her servitude and gracious assistance with spiritual endeavors. She was exhausted by the things the elders requested of her and the other young faeries. She knew she stuck out every time she went into town - the purple skin, the wings, the aura of magic that radiated off of her. She was essentially a giant walking target when she got to thinking about it.

That was why she walked into the port saloon - or was it just a bar? - with such authority. If she was meek and soft, surely the patrons wouldn’t take her seriously. Addie scanned the entire pub, settling on the only person who didn’t have a gaggle of women around him. She didn’t need to fight for conversation or entertainment tonight and the gentleman in the corner seemed just ornery enough to piqued her interest. Her wings refracted a sort of shimmer across the walls as she walked and she crossed her arms over her chest when he scolded her, telling her to go back to her hallow.

Scoffing, she lifted an eyebrow. “Now, that’s no way to talk to a fae. I was hoping for a nice night out on the town, away from the hollow.” And with that, she felt a hand on her backside she did not want on her backside. She fluttered her wings harshly, leaving a smattering of silver glitter on the face of the man who’d touched her. “And maybe a drink?”

[addielerouxx]

alexander-anders‌:

If there was an Olympic medal to be won for selective hearing, Addie would have have gold. Funny, he hadn’t thought it possible to be selective when tuned into someone’s mind, but there she was, thinking on about strength in being soft, like it made him some kind of hero. But the world had broken him. He was not standing quiet and firm against the raging winds of inevitable tragedy, he was a trembling heap on the floor that had learned to pool into something man-shaped come morning and tumble through a routine of existing until he could turn back into a puddle come evening. It was numbness, not strength, that got him out of bed every morning. She didn’t get that, though. Maybe he should be glad of that. It should be a good thing that she couldn’t comprehend just how much of a coward he was. 

There was something odd about hearing his full name from her lips. It was unsettling, not because the sound itself was unsettling, but because of how entirely right it felt to hear from her. Like he had been waiting to hear her say it before the name really felt right on him. He was almost convinced to laugh, but smothered it into a suppressed smile instead. She wasn’t wrong. He had thought on more than one occasion of simply…leaving. It would be easier to pack his things and move on from Paris to a different city, somewhere far away that he wouldn’t come across wisps of purple wherever he looked. He doubted he would make it all that far before devolving into madness once more and who knew how long he wander the streets this time. It had been about a year of living on the streets last time, hadn’t it? It was all a blur at this point, memories he would just as soon forget. 

Distance. Distance was very much necessary at the moment, because as much as Addie seemed convinced that she knew what she wanted, he didn’t think she did. He could still feel the remnants of Christian, angry muddled brown that he was, and he knew that the man’s presence had addled Addie. He knew that the whole night had been an unmitigated disaster and surely when she woke up in the morning, she would instantly regret ever letting a thought like that to take up space in her mind. 

At least, that was what he intended to tell himself. It would certainly be better for both of them if she woke up in that mindset instead. Things were already so convoluted and difficult, adding another aspect of confusion to it would only make things worse. It would only add to this string that she was wrapping around his heart, the thread that would surely destroy one of them when it was snapped and he was doing his very damnedest to make sure it was him. He was also certain that he was an abysmal failure in that regard. His every effort had been to protect her thus far, and all he seemed to do was make things worse. That should have been further evidence against him, and still she went on trying to draw him closer. 

“If you put down roots in me, you’ll tear me to pieces when you pull them back up.” He didn’t know where the words had come from; he had no memory of forming them in his mind, only of them spilling out of his mouth unheeded. It was true, though. All of this, the softness, the easy conversations, the were roots curling into the soil of him and holding him together. For the time, they kept him whole. But the consequences of it threatened to leave him so much worse than how he had started. 

Her laugh was enough to make him smile. Really, smile. This was the same issue they had been arguing over (mentally or verbally) since the moment they met, and something about her laugh eased some of the tension of it. He thought that he would like to make her laugh again, before remembering that it wasn’t his job to make her laugh. That wasn’t enough to diminish his smile just yet, the intensity of the moment’s emotions fading with the sound of that laugh. The evening had been too much, but that cut through it all in a single moment. 

“There’s a blanket,” Alex told her softly, wryly. He could feel her intention with the movement, and he was not yet ready to give up on his imposed distance between the two of them. There were plenty of ways for her to keep herself warm, most of which had nothing at all to do with him. The problem was that Addie was not the one to take the sensible road, and that was the only road he knew how to walk anymore. The amusement of the moment faded though, at her request. He couldn’t blame her. He had been running off every chance he got, doing his best to chase her away and keep his distance. But he couldn’t leave now, not with her looking at him like that, asking him to stay. He couldn’t leave her after what this night had been, even if he did know that it would be for the best. And while he was prepared to string words together in an attempt to express as much, the feeling her fingers on his skin against stopped him cold. Fingers on his skin, thumb against his lip, it was all Alex could do not to shut his eyes and lean into the touch. This was against the rules. No, they had already been breaking the rules, this was…this was…he couldn’t string two thoughts together to think of what it was, at least not beyond the part of his brain that was currently telling him that this was nice. “I’ll stay,” he told her, voice falling to a near whisper. His hand went up to catch hers, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking it and pressing a kiss to her fingertips before he pulled the hand away from his face. 

Addie would be willing to bet that they could spend every waking hour going back and forth on his strength or weakness, however you were looking at it. She knew that wasn’t how either of them wanted to spend their time together, though. She hoped that it wouldn’t end abruptly with him leaving or her awkwardly gathering her pastries off of his bedside table. She’d apparently hit him like a ton of bricks in the same manner he had, her. From the get go, something had just felt right. The same way it seemed to feel right when she spoke his full name. Their entire existence together was just that - right. As terrifying as that could potentially be, in their current situation, it made her feel secure. She didn’t have to worry about how he’d talk to her or touch her; she knew he’d do what she needed, even if she didn’t know what she needed herself.

The way Alex guarded his laughter and smile left the start of a small pit in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to keep himself from getting his hopes up or hers. Regardless, she wished he’d laugh or smile when he wanted to. This time, it was a laugh that was suppressed into a half smile. The puce green of the streets hit her eyes in jagged splinters just as quickly as the thoughts filtered in about actually being on the streets. She’d never not had a roof over her head but for 6 months or so, she’d slept in a garage on a futon. That’d been less than ideal, especially during the colder months. But the streets weren’t friendly to anyone, especially someone as intuitive as Alex.

Addie wasn’t confused about how she felt, despite the fact that Alex seemed to think she was. But she wasn’t upset that he thought so. Regardless of the fact that Christian seemed to cling to the fabric of her shirt without her consent, she didn’t want him to be there. She’d never truly wanted to see Christian in the first place. It had all been some backwards attempt to gain some semblance of control in her life and it had failed...miserably. The day Alex had pushed her away, she’d needed some way to feel like she was able to have a say in things. Christian had just sort of fallen back into her lap and instead of doing something constructive, like offer to paint the half bath on the first floor like she’d been planning to, she texted Christian back.

That didn’t meant she was confused about her current circumstance, inches from the man she most wanted to be next to. Things were not convoluted or difficult. In fact, she was fairly certain that they were about as plain as they could be: she wanted to spend time with him and he continued to refuse, time and time again. The way he spoke his concerns this time though, had her falter for just a moment - that she would be the one to hurt him, somehow. Shaking her head, she started to wriggle among the blankets he’d reminded her of. “You’re not going to win this argument, Alexander Anders,” she assured him, moving her limbs around in an effort to more easily slide the comforter up over her. She kicked out slowly, gently, to encompass as much of Alex as she could, too. “For every attempt to tell me you’ll ruin this or we’re doomed, I’ll be there with a smile and a rejection of that very idea.” He couldn’t just deny them the chance to even attempt to have a conversation just because he was scared of how it might end. She knew that he was going to try though. That seemed to be how he functioned: tell Addie no over and over. 

If he had been trying to be sassy, and she knew he had been, it worked. She’d nearly kicked him in jest when she let her foot come down to rest but she’d gotten distracted by Alex pulling her hand to his lips. She shifted, just slightly, and closed the gap that she’d been so aware of for the last 60 seconds. He was radiating warmth and all she wanted to do was curl into him and sleep. Her face wasn’t even to his shoulders; she was so damn small compared to him. The sweater she’d taken from him a few weeks back had been a dress, sliding off her shoulder and she’d relished every cup of tea she drank while wearing it. She twisted again, wedging herself into the crook of his arm, where she seemed to fit perfectly.

But she pushed back slightly, when she heard the thought filter in; she wanted to ask him how exactly she had looked at him because it seemed to be one of the only reasons he was willing to stay with her right now. His lips pressed to her fingertips and she just stared at their hands, his lips. She took a small breath, not wanting to disrupt whatever she felt hanging in the air in this moment. It would be so easy to upset the balance they’d created over the last short while. She could just lean into him and hope he didn’t push her back. But she stayed where she was, steady and solid. Her breathing was normal, now. No hiccups interrupted her train of thought; her heart wasn’t skipping beats because of how quick it was pumping. She was just calm now and he was there beside her. 

[addielerouxx]

alexander-anders‌: 

Soft. He could have laughed. Maybe he did; it was a little hard to track what was real at the moment. He was soft, she just didn’t realize yet that it was in all the wrong ways. He wasn’t soft purely out of softness, he was soft because all the strong bits of himself had been broken into fragile pieces and now there was nothing left of him that could hold steady. Soft was just a much kinder way of saying weak. Not that he had ever been particular strong, but at least he hadn’t been this broken thing that shattered at the idea of blood or pain. It took so little now to send him tumbling away from reality, and he thought he had learned to live with that fact, but then there was Addie. 

Then there was Addie. She had come into his life and so easily, so quickly, destroyed everything he thought he knew about this new version of himself. It was confusing and difficult, and he knew he should want it to stop, but he didn’t. “Anders.” Alex said quietly, in response to the unspoken question. Was that against the rules? He didn’t know anymore. He wasn’t sure it mattered, either. Every rule he had set for himself he had broken (well not all of them, but he had certainly thought about breaking the ones he’d still been keeping). 

Anything, Alex though. Anything but that. He hoped she didn’t hear that. This was freshly dangerous territory, and warning bells were ringing in his head now, louder than even the buzzing. The thought to skitter through her head had landed in his and he was doing his very best to pretend that it hadn’t. See, he was very sure that was against the rules. Thinking about it was against the rules (he had broken that part before, but she didn’t need to know about that). He grasped at other thoughts, anything to drown out the idea of shifting a little closer and pretending he wasn’t this inhuman thing, this unsolved puzzle of miss-matched pieces. It would be easy, he knew. Physically, it would take hardly a breath of movement, and mentally it would only take turning off the voice in his head telling him what a very terrible idea it was. The hard part was not. And it was funny because until he had overheard it in Addie’s mind, doing nothing about it hadn’t been hard at all. 

Alex shifted away, feeling like he was tugging weights with him as he went. He would not be Addie’s downfall, as much as he would like to be. She deserved better than that, better than him. So he would do anything she asked, anything but that. A halfhearted smile ghosted across his lips, following the train of thought she had been entertaining. It was an accurate depiction of the two of them, though he saw it more as him nailing down multiple signs of ‘do not enter’ and ‘dangerous’ while watching her sail right past them. It was only sobering to think of what might happen if she kept going at that speed, ignoring his warnings to stay away, turn back. There was a cliff edge, and down at the bottom of that cliff were demons and blood and the insanity that had been clutching at him since he got home. 

Alex stared. He stared some more. He felt as stalled as if they hadn’t already spent two separate nights in the same bed, watching her movies and sleeping. He could rationale that made it better, but he didn’t think that was true, really. He thought that probably made it worse. He thought how easy it would be to stretch out next to her and drawn in a clean breath, spend a night under the protective cover of her branches. He wondered if she realized that she had saved him much more than he had saved her, tonight. The idea of leaving hurt. It was a growing, aching thing in his chest when he thought of standing up and walking out, going back to his own empty room. That had to be why her soft entreaty (there was no difference between thoughts and words at this point) was enough to convince him. 

He moved slow and careful, shifting a pillow or two here and stiffly laying out next to her, trying to keep some distance between them. It was really unfair how impossible it was to say no to her. Nobody should be this difficult to walk away from, but he was beginning to suspect that he would break all over again if she suddenly left his life. It had been bad enough the past two weeks not talking, but there had still been traces of her here and there. He had still felt her in the room above him, her roots had still been there. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if she left entirely and that realization scared him more than he cared to admit. 

Addie could hear an almost exact stream of consciousness as she sat next to him. She knew he thought her comments were laughable. She’d almost wished he had laughed. At least that way she’d know he wasn’t offended by her comment. There was strength in being soft; that was something her grandmother had always said to her. There was no shame in being soft in a world that tried its damnedest to make you break. She knew, even now, that the world nearly had. There was was, though, off to the side in his head, pulling him away from the dark edge of whatever he was trying to avoid. She could almost see the branches reaching out for him.

Then, he spoke, drawing her from the mental image inside his head. “Anders.” She repeated him. “Alexander...Alex...Anders.” Alexander was a yellow name. She couldn’t explain it even if she wanted to, but it was. Perhaps it was just because that was what she associated with him so feverishly now. If the two of them were to follow the rules Alex set forward, one of them would be living on the streets by now. Following rules had never been Addie’s strong suit and she wasn’t about to start trying now, especially not as she tried to get Alex to breathe for a moment and just lay down.

Not only did Addie hear what he’d been thinking but she also heard the fact that he hoped she hadn’t. She could hear sharp, shrill beeps growing louder and louder, too. She’d apparently set off some sort of alarm system inside Alex’s head and she saw him slip into a vibrant, streaky blue. She wanted to reaching out in this moment, press her palm to his chest or run her hand down his arm, but she knew she’d only add to the mounting anxiety that flourished around him. She tried to steady her breath, hoping he would follow in suit and that was when she felt it: the warmth spreading from her cheekbone to the nape of her neck down her spine, blooming into an open flower in her stomach. He’d thought of it, too and she’d felt every second of it. 

Do it. 

If he had just stayed where he was instead of immediately shifting away... But that wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, was it? Something like that wasn’t supposed to happen in a moment of stress, right? Though, she was positive that tomorrow, she’d feel the same way. And judging by how he seemed to struggle to pull away, so would Alex. Was there truly any different between then and now?

She wanted to assure him, for what was essentially the fourth time now, that she was more than capable of handling herself. Whatever he thought he would do to her, whether it be dragging her down or being her downfall, or whatever new way of saying that it was today, was not accurate. She wasn’t quite sure why, but he seemed hellbent on making his own life harder. Why he would not even start to accept that she wasn’t going anywhere just because he told her to was beyond her. Perhaps, she realized, it had just always worked for him before. Addie was no before, though; she was persistent to a fault. It often led her to trouble or frustration and had never been the best at moving on from something.

The image of Alex nailing down signage and plastering dangerous posters over things as she flew past was amusing enough to her to draw an audible laugh as he lowered himself down next to her. That was exactly what she was doing and when she saw it set in that manner in his head, she almost felt a little bad about it. He was just trying to protect her but that circled her back to the logic of not needing protection in the first place. 

He lowered himself slowly, pushing a few of the larger, more cumbersome pillows toward the edges as he came to rest next to her. He was purposefully far from her; she could tell that he’d done it with extreme care, most likely because of the kissing thought from a few moments ago. He really didn’t trust her, or perhaps it was that he didn’t trust himself. With that thought, she shivered slightly, realizing she’d never put a sweater on when she left her room earlier. She leaned forward, nearly desperate for the warmth she knew being close to him would give her. If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t about the warmth at all and hell, that shiver was probably the result of something other than chills. “Just...” she stopped herself, trying to pull the right words from her head, “don’t run off on me?” She didn’t want him to just disappear; she didn’t think she could handle that right now. Moving her hand across the gap between them, she meant to lace her fingers with his. Instead, she lifted her hand slightly and her thumb brushed against his bottom lip. “Stay?”

[addielerouxx]

addie & jack moodboard 001/???

[lucifer-chloe]

[danverscarol]

[addielerouxx]

alexander-anders‌:

Addie seemed more concerned about him than herself. He might have formed the words to tell her that he was alright, if he could only find them. If he thought he could fit any kind of truth into them. He didn’t think he could convince himself, much less her. Instead, he just held onto her and tried to keep away from the dark corners of his mind, the grabby hands that wanted to lay hold of him and drag him away from the light. He couldn’t do that, not here, not now. He would hold onto Addie’s light for as long as he could and he would allow himself to crumble only when she couldn’t hear the shattering of the pieces. He could do this. He could do this. The blood wasn’t blood, it was just…It wasn’t blood.He had played this game the entire time he’d been working as a doctor on the field; beat himself up, tell himself it wasn’t real, whatever it took to keep him going.

Addie’s searching mind tugged him back in, back to the present. Alex caught her hand, trying to tether her. “No physical bits broken. The body is whole, he is of no concern.” That at least he could tell her honestly. He had taken no damage in the brief encounter that he refused to call a fight. There hadn’t been much actual fighting, after all. He shut his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to slip back into the thoughts of it, even as the scene replayed in his head once more. 

Addie. Alex tightened his grip. If he just kept holding on, he could almost feel the soft, waving leaves, then dip down to the roots that were dug deep into soil and steady, steady, steady. Her leaves were loud and rattling in the moment, branches waving, but her roots were still the same, unwavering and unmovable. She would be okay, he knew. Even if he wasn’t there, she would be just fine, because a wind like Christian couldn’t blow over an oak like Addie. 

He bit back another apology. She didn’t want him to, as much as he felt he needed to. He was sorry. He didn’t want to be this broken thing that couldn’t really help her in the way that she needed, he was sorry that he, in trying to protect her, had pushed her towards someone so toxic. Alex shut his own eyes, suddenly unable to think about anything other than the feel of her lips against his palm. He didn’t understand how one person could be so all-consuming, how she could so easily dissipate any other thoughts that made a home in his head. He would have done anything she asked him to in that moment, so he didn’t apologize again. “Okay,” he said instead. The buzzing in his bones was quiet for a moment, the past hour irrelevant. 

He nodded slightly at her words, the movement almost imperceptible. She was doing a good job of smothering his rising panic, but he could still feel it building up in his chest, threatening to burst, and he knew he needed to leave before it did. For now though, her touch was keeping him in the present, and her hand on his face was enough to undo him. Didn’t she know how unfair this was to him? Weak, he dipped his head and allowed his forehead to press against hers, again. Everything was okay. Addie was okay. That meant that he should go, only he wasn’t ready to just yet. He wanted to pretend that he belonged here. “Chaos is a stubborn master and panic builds up to overflow, old wounds torn open, a sight too ugly for clear eyes to see. Escape should be made before everything breaks and the bees come to fill up all the empty space, dark corners spreading and, and..” Alex shook his head against hers, then pulled away. He was already deteriorating, unable to string clear words together. Desperately, he grasped as linear thought and it escaped him. The buzzing was back and it was beginning to resolve into sounds. 

Addie was going to be okay - she had a busted lip and she’d probably flinch at someone opening a window to harshly for a few days - but she was going to be okay. She knew herself well enough to know that. What she didn’t know for sure was if Alex was going to be okay. Despite the fact that she’d only seen him a handful of times, she had gathered that he was a soft man and she was jealous of that. She wanted to be soft but he had her pegged: she was solid, steady, and unwavering, stubborn, sharp, and sometimes too loud for her own good. She was not soft. At least, not in the same pale yellow way that Alex was. 

She wanted - no needed - to know that he was okay. He’d stepped into the fray when he hadn’t been asked to and she was could feel something creeping in on him, though what, she couldn’t quite say. This was part of the enigma that was Alex -- it was then that she realized she didn’t know his last name. She scoffed at herself briefly for that lapse of information but was drawn back to the conversation when he spoke out loud. 

She’d grown so accustomed over their conversations of a majority of the conversation taking place without speaking that his words permeated her in ways she hadn’t expect. Simply nodding, she took in what he said with as much ease as possible. He seemed confident that he was not the one hurting right now. For that, Addie was thankful.

As his grip tightened on her hand, she didn’t flinch; she barely moved at all. The image he showed her of this massive oak with soft, waving leaves and thick, solid roots, made her smile. She was not sure that she could live up to such a glorious piece of nature but she sure as hell was going to try. Her magic drew power from the very thing he was imagining her to be. Perhaps that was why he was so insistent on describing her as a tree. She was what most people in this day and age would refer to as a green witch. Her practiced focused on nature and herbal magic. She watched the phases of the moon and charged the crystals with the power of the moon or other celestial events before casting certain spells; she worked with pinecones and feathers and witch stones. Perhaps a tree wasn’t such an odd image to compare her to after all...

She wanted to wash the buzzing away, help him keep whatever was causing it at bay. As he sat there, holding her, the idea that slipped into her head that he would do anything she asked lifted a weight off her shoulders. She took a deep breath and a brilliantly quick flash of something with an air of longing crossed her mind. It was her head for maybe a millisecond but it had most certainly flashed through her mind. The lack of buzzing in the air between wiped away continuation of what she’d just considered. Alex had been so stalled by the feeling of her lips against his skin that, for just a moment, she wondered what would happen if she’d kissed him instead.

There was something about the softness of his eyes, the way he kept looking away from her only to be drawn back in again. She felt like she was on the edge of a precipice she wasn’t supposed to be standing on, like she’d passed a do not enter posting or simply ignored it. Knowing herself, it was most likely the latter.

When he pulled back, she wanted to say “no” but she kept it from slipping out - but he’d hear it. It’d be over 3 years since she’d been around a telepathic witch, as far as she knew. Surely, there’d been others but she’d been none the wiser. Having grown up with family members of a similar skill set, it only took a few minutes before things went back and forth smoothly without any additional thought. She could hear him repeating the things she was saying: everything was okay. Addie was okay. She nodded along, her hand brushing against his leg in an attempt to comfort him further. He started sputtering off a statement, sort of jumbled but she followed it fairly easily. She glanced to her pillow and lowered herself down slowly, nodding and patting the empty space beside her. There were almost too many pillows on the bed. She was usually alone, or with Oscar, so the pillows were there to help her feel safe, protected. Living alone wasn’t very glamorous at all. “I’ll keep the bees away. Big leaves are good at that, right?” 

She was being stubborn again, selfish, even. She was tired; he was tired. She wanted to lay down so she did. Hopefully, he would join her. She wasn’t going to actually ask him, but by thinking that, she already had. Her eyes lingered on him, refusing to break the connection she’d established all those nights ago when she’d gone knocking on his door. Lay down, Alex, please. With me. 

[carterpeggy]

[trashl0rde]

[emilysblunt]

[addielerouxx]

alex x addie moodboard 001/???

[addielerouxx]

alexander-anders‌:

It was a little bit difficult to concentrate. Alex’s ears were ringing, though there really hadn’t been any particularly loud noises. It was the sort of buzzing that usually preceded a bad episode, which was only being put off by the fact that Addie seemed very intent on taking up permanent residence in his sweater, while he was still wearing it. The worst of panic couldn’t hold a candle when it came to Addie’s will, it seemed (even as her own panic was taking over, it drowned his out). He would face the consequences for putting it off later - Addie took precedence at the moment. 

She was full of twisting, rushing desires and an irretractable part of him wanted to find a way to fill every single one of them, suddenly wishing he was the sort of witch who could simply make things appear with a snap of his fingers (if that kind of witch did, in fact, exist). He couldn’t do that. He also wasn’t sure that he could last the night without allowing the encroaching tendrils of his past to grab hold of him and drag him backwards. It was taking every ounce of effort to stop the replaying sound of the snap of the man’s (Christian) arm snapping. It was still there, in the back of his mind, echoing over and over again. He thought of anything else, of everything else, to push the sound further back. 

There was Addie. She was loud, and underneath all her streaking, vibrant colors was that familiar purple reaching out and curling around him like a soothing blanket. He could almost pretend that nothing was wrong. He had thought that time and anger might break (or at least lessen) whatever it was between them, but it felt more potent than ever. She was still his tether in the chaos, enough to keep one foot moving after the other, enough to get them into her room where he could at least shut out the rest of the house and do his best to pretend that he wasn’t falling to pieces at her feet. The sight of blood alone was enough to make him dizzy, make his throat go dry, increase the distant ringing in his ears. Given time, he knew it would resolve into gunshots and screams, but for now it was just ringing. For now, it was just red (never-mind the fact that it was on his hands too, spreading, multiplying more than it ought to be by reason). He knew where the med kit was. He followed the pictures in her mind and could find it without needing any verbal guidance from her, and still, he didn’t move. He was afraid that if he let go her, everything would catch up with him before he could get back. 

It didn’t take much to convince him to sit up on the bed beside her, given that train of thought. He was trying, trying, to pull himself together and stitch the seems up enough that he could let this moment be about her. She was the one who had faced something traumatic, she was the one who was hurt. And yet, this was why he had tried to avoid her. He was no good when it came to these things, too wrapped up in the world that controlled his mind. Alex reached for her hand. Distance be damned, he was going to lose his mind if he couldn’t feel her skin against his, have her holding him to this moment. 

He steadied, a little. The lump in his throat did not abate. “I’m sorry,” he told her, though he wasn’t sure why. For the fight? He hadn’t changed his mind on things. For Christian’s presence, as if he had anything to do with it? He wasn’t sure, he just knew that he was sorry. He knew that the sight of Addie, his tree (she was his, even if that wasn’t allowed) so rattled and shattered had him broken all over again. Of it’s own accord, his hand left hers to reach up to her face again, brush the split on her lip, slip around her jaw, run a thumb across her cheekbone. “Creeper vines steal life from the strongest of trees,” he murmured, as much to himself as it was to her, eyebrows drawn in with concern. 

“Sorry,” he said again, suddenly very conscious of every breath he drew in and pushed out. He couldn’t shake the guilt from his chest even though he knew, logically, he wasn’t at fault for the way that somebody else had treated her. He should have come upstairs sooner. He should have replied to her texts. He should have never answered the door the first night she came to it. With a little shuddering breath, Alex shut his eyes and began trying to gather up his thoughts in order to shut them far enough away that she wouldn’t hear them. 

Addie knew it was ridiculous but she couldn’t stop herself. She needed to be closer to him. She felt exposed, even in the comfort of her own room. Nothing was going to put her at ease until Alex was sitting next to her. Her lip wasn’t as bad as it looked surely. Blood made everything look scarier than it actually was. Her lip was swollen and surely not the most pleasant color from bruising she knew was there. It’d been painful to the touch just a moment ago. The blood would come off with a shower. She’d take a shower later.

She was able to keep her thoughts on a semi-regular train of execution; she wasn’t jumping from one thing to the next rapidly like she had been out in the hallway. At least, she was trying. She wasn’t honestly even sure she was succeeding but did that really matter? She was safe. Alex was here. She was okay. Alex wasn’t hurt, was he? She scanned him again, her eyes darting quickly back and forth over him - his face, his shoulder, his neck. He seemed physically okay though she could hear the buzzing in his head, growing louder by the second. 

She knew it was the blood. She licked her thumb and pulled it across her lip once, twice. It stung but she did it again. She pushed too hard once more and winced as she pulled back. Her lip quivered but she drew in a long breath and closed her eyes as she exhaled. She was safe. Alex was with her. No matter how many times she tried to tell herself that, she still struggled to take a normal breath. Her chest was tight and she just wanted to breathe. 

The bees in his head were filling the room now. She couldn’t shake the concern from her face as she watched his colors ebb and flow into what quickly became a barrage of pain and anguish. He evened out suddenly, though, reaching for her as he apologized. She shook her head, unsure of why he was apologizing. He’d helped her, saved her, from her own stupidity. That was what this entire cataclysm of an evening had been. She’d been so upset about their fight that she’d let someone who deserved not even so much as a backwards glance back into her life. She knew he was worried, on so many levels, about hurting her or dragging her down. She understood his metaphor in its entirety - she was a grounded tree and he was the creeping vines, in his own headspace, at least. She also knew that she was his tree, despite the fact that he seemed hellbent on pushing her away. 

The warmth that slipped from his thumb into her skin as he brushed her cheekbone melted away an incredible amount of the tightness in her chest. His hand was still cradling her face as she reached up with her own hand, her fingers gently holding onto him. She pulled his hand forward sightly, pressing her lips to the pad of his palm. The entire time, her eyes remained locked on his. She couldn’t look away, not that she wanted to. “Please don’t apologize.” 

As soon as Alex shut his eyes, he shifted to a cold, solitary, opaque gray. Her concern mounted and she tightened her hold on his hand and tried to steady her own breathing. She wasn’t going to help anything if she was still unable to focus herself. She heard every single regret and reason he was sorry enter his head; he was drowning in his worry for her. “Alex...” She was okay; she was right here, alive and okay, save the bruised lip. That was neither Alex’s fault nor hers; that honor belonged to Christian and his incompetence at being a decent human being. “Alex...hey.” She pulled his hand off of her cheek and lay it in her lap. It was her turn to reach forward now, following a similar pattern to what he had done - her fingertips brushed upward along his facial hair, slipped around his jaw, and her thumb ran across his cheekbone. “Everything is okay. I swear.”