Chapter Eight// Home

His fists were sore— or at least they should have been. But as his fist swung and connected time and time again with the now bloodied face beneath him, Alex barely felt the split in his knuckles.

Flora stood in the bathroom doorway, her hands playing anxiously with the hem of her skirt— the skirt that made his breath hitch in his throat.

But now, as she stood anxiously and fearful in the hall, Alex grew even angrier at the boy pinned beneath him.

A crowd had formed around the scene, party-goers eager to see who was involved in the bloody fist fight.

"Stop!" A soft voice shouted over the loud crowd, and even louder music.

Alex almost missed it— it was so soft. But he'd recognize it even in the loudest of rooms.

He immediately halted, glancing over his shoulder at her shy frame.

Her grabbed the boy by the collar, bringing his bloodied face up to his ear and muttering something threatening, no doubt, before roughly shoving him back onto the ground.

Alex stood up, nearly stomping his feet towards Flora.

"We're leaving," he spoke demandingly, grabbing ahold of her hand, and protectively guiding her through the crowd of onlookers.

"Alex!" Flora shouted, as he practically dragged the much shorter girl behind him, her legs unable to meet his long strides.

He just wanted to get out of there— it was suffocating— and he was starting to feel the sting in his cut knuckles. Not to mention, he was livid. He swore he could've killed that guy.

"Alex!"

"What!" He snapped, finally turning to face her.

Flora retreated, her gaze averted his, and her mouth formed a heartbreaking frown. Alex could punch himself right about now, too. 

"I'm sorry," Alex began, his voice as soft as he could muster in his state of anger.

"I was just...angry." That was an understatement, he thought to himself.

Yet Flora's face remained solemn.

"Not at you," he reassured, hoping a smile would grace her beautiful, lightly-freckled face.

"I was angry at that asshole. I promise I'm not angry at you."

That seemed to appease Flora. She gave him a small smile and he swore he felt his chest constrict. What was happening to him? He wasn't soft and he definitely wasn't one to get attached.

So what was it about her?

"Thanks," She muttered lowly.

Alex smiled in response and it was the first time Flora ever saw him smile— actually smile— not just his usual panty-dropping smirk, but a genuine smile.

"Come on," Alex said, not liking the growing intimacy between them.

"Let's go."

Flora's smile faltered slightly. She liked this softer side of Alex. Of course, she wished she was seeing it under different circumstances, but she was grateful nonetheless.

Alex opened the passenger door, lifted Flora into the seat and buckled her in, before slipping into the drivers seat himself. The way his way arm reached around her waist to secure the belt sent butterflies to her belly.

"Thank you," Flora whispered.

"You said that already." Alex's tone was clipped and harsh. He knew he shouldn't be taking his anger out on her, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't even about the party anymore. He was angry at himself. He was angry that he let himself feel something for someone and he didn't know what to do about it.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. Alex wasn't one to apologize— mainly because he didn't care about anyone or anything— but when he did, he meant it.

"I don't think I've heard you speak so much, Flower, but I'm not complaining." Flora grinned.

Finally, Alex thought to himself, she smiled.

Alex pulled the car into drive and drove fast and far away from that hellish party once and for all.

Flora didn't know what to think as she gazed out the passenger window of his car. She should have felt more upset— or at least she thought she should have— but she didn't. Sitting with Alex and seeing him smile, it made her feel good. It made her feel safe. She almost completely forgot what happened at the party— her only reminder in this very moment, was Alex's bloody knuckles gripping tightly onto the steering wheel.

Flora brushed her fingers gently against his bruised skin. Alex hissed, but instantly relaxed into her touch.

"I'm sorry," she muttered lowly, referring to the gash in his now purple-ish flesh.

"It's alright," Alex answered earnestly, and he truly meant it. He had been in countless stupid fights, but this one actually had purpose.

Her eyes lifted to his, almost as if she was unsure whether he was telling the truth or not.

Alex's eyes flicked to the road ahead, but somehow his light-coloured orbs still managed to hold her gaze with such focus and attention.

Her eyes flicked down to his lips, and even though he wanted to deny it, he secretly hoped she would just kiss him already.

"Alex?" Flora spoke softly, as she always had. Alex hummed in response.

"Pull over."

He gave her a quizzical look, part of him was excited— though he would never do anything to her with so much liquor in her system.

Alex pulled over towards the edge of the empty road. Flora fiddled with the door handle, flinging it open, and emptying the contents of her stomach onto the grass.

Was she that repulsed by the thought of kissing him? Alex worried, but they had already done other things.

Instantly, as if reflexively, Alex ran around to the passenger side of the car, pulling her hair out of her face while his free hand rubbed soothing circles atop her back.

Flora was mortified, even with the alcohol coursing through her veins, nothing subdued her embarrassment. She didn't think she could ever look him in the eyes again.

A tear slid down her cheek, she felt utterly pathetic. What a night, she thought sarcastically.

She rose her head, wiping her mouth off, and daring to look into Alex's soft blue eyes. They didn't seem disgusted, like she had expected. They didn't even seem to pity her. They weren't even angry. They were... affectionate.

"Sorry," she muttered, averting her gaze from his once again. He placed his thumb under her chin, his touch was soft— as though she was as delicate as glass— and he gently turned her head towards his, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Don't apologize, okay?" Alex's eyes were gentle, but she could tell he had meant business. His gaze lingered, making certain she heard every word.

Flora nodded meekly, sighing into his touch, as his hand ran gently through her hair. His touch always felt hot against her skin, like fire. But tonight, it was an entirely different kind of heat— a warmth.

"Let's get you home, flower," Alex spoke tenderly, helping Flora back into his car. The nickname made her stomach erupt with butterflies. In fact, a lot of what Alex did gave her butterflies.

Flora grew sleepier and sleepier, her eyelids becoming heavy with each passing tree, as Alex drove down the quiet streets.

"So, where am I going?" Alex asked, but the car had fallen silent, other then the soft hum of Flora's deep breathing.

Flower?" Alex sighed, upon seeing her sleeping, her head rested against the window. She looked so peaceful, he didn't want to wake her.

For a long moment he stayed in his car, that was now idly parked outside of his apartment. He could hardly believe he was doing this. Even as he gently scooped her sleeping body from his car, carrying her up a flight of stairs and towards his front door.

Her breathing was even and steady, her chest rose and fell beneath a small butterfly pendant. Alex brushed the stray hair out of her face, admiring each freckle that sat atop her cheeks and nose. He pulled the blanket over her body, tucking her comfortably into his sheets, before venturing off towards the couch and passing out from his own exhaustion.