Part 22

While I was crying, I felt Alex rub his hand on my back, and I could hear him speak. I couldn't tell what he was saying, but I know that he was trying to comfort me. Slowly, my sobs start to become shaky breaths. Then, they become more stable. Before long, I'm taking deep breaths, trying to calm my heart. My arms are still around him, and I find myself tightening my hug on him, not wanting him to leave me. I felt him adjust himself to hold me more securely, and he also tightened his hug on me. We sat there for a few seconds, each not knowing what to do next. Finally, I say to him, "I'm scared." I tried to say it normally, but it came out like a whisper instead. "I'm so, so scared."

I wait for him to give some big declaration about how fear is misguiding, and we shouldn't let it control us, but all he says is, "I know. I am too." At that point, I sit up to look at him. I've released my hold on him, but my hands still linger around his waist. He has turned to look at me. I must still have tears in my eyes because he brings his hands up to wipe my tears away. His hands are big and strong, but at this moment they're gentle. After gently wiping my tears away, he cups my face. I can feel his fingers as they come to rest on the nape of my neck, and it sends tingles down my spine. He's the only one who I allow to touch me. I don't even let Kate touch me, because the first time she tried to, she accidentally punched a pressure point. My parents hug me sometimes, but more often we keep some distance between us. But the first time he ever touched or held me was when he saved my life. Maybe that's why I feel comfortable around him. Because my first real impression of him was that he's willing to save the life of someone who everyone hates, even themselves.

Up until this point, I've been looking everywhere except his eyes. I've always been so scared of what I might see in his dreams, but this time, something's different. I'm not sure what yet, but I don't have that overwhelming fear towards him anymore. When I finally look into his eyes, he brushes my cheek with his thumb and softly says, "You do know that you are the only person who hates yourself, right? No one is friends with a person they hate." I'm too shocked by this statement to move or say anything in reply, which quickly becomes impossible when his hand moves to grip the back of my neck. I see him tilt his head and bring it closer to mine. That's the last thing I see before I close my eyes, and tilt my head upwards a bit. I can feel how close he is to me, and I'm able to take one final breath before he kisses me.

The kiss is soft, simple, and tells me how much he's cared for me. He didn't try anything with the kiss, just pressed his lips against mine. I take a breath through my nose when he deepens the kiss, but shortly after he pulls away. As soon as the contact is broken, I drop my head, eyes wide open. I slowly bring my hand up to my lips, and my thumb hovers over my lips. What did I just do?! That was not supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

"I'm sorry about that. That was really immature of me. I shouldn't have done that."

"Are you disgusted with yourself?"

At my question, Alex whips his head around to look me dead in the eyes. "Of course not. I just can't believe that I thought that it would be ok to kiss you after you spent the last 10 minutes sobbing. I can promise you, my parents did not raise me that way."

I have no idea what to say in reply, so I shifted myself until I'm sitting properly on the couch, and put my head on Alex's shoulder. He's a little startled by the contact but doesn't move away from me. We sit there for a few seconds before I say, "You know, as long as we both promise to never speak of this, I don't think that anything has to change between us."

"I would say deal, but the truth is that things have changed between us. We're actually talking, and not just because we have to. We're talking because we want to. Because we're growing more comfortable with each other. I think that-"

At this point, it was pretty clear that I had to shut him up somehow. So I finished his sentence for him. "You talk too much. I wasn't talking about when we first met to now, because I can't stop thinking about what a one-eighty that is. I was talking about before the kiss vs. after the kiss. We don't have to be awkward with each other, and as long as we can get her to keep her mouth shut, no one needs to know about that."

"That's a fair point, but one question."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why would we be telling her about the kiss?"

At this point, I picked up my head to look at him, which I've done way too much of in the past 20 minutes. "You're serious right? You never noticed this before?" He shook his head to confirm the fact that I am the only observant person in his life. "She's a mind reader."