XXXVI.

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Alexander stayed up with me and waited until I fell asleep. He patiently sat on the bad, caressing my hair, making sure I'm really asleep before he left the room.

I didn't sleep much. That was understandable, I didn't even expect it. But those few hours that I did sleep passed without any nightmares and that's what surprised me the most. I'm not complaining, though.

I don't go downstairs when I wake up. No, I climb out on the rooftop, welcoming the cold air. I'm trembling from the cold and I know it's normal, because I didn't get enough sleep and I'm still shaken-up about last night, but when I see Alexander out there already in the early hours, my heart skips a beat and my body warms a bit, remembering his touch.

His kiss.

I freeze, my breathing starting to get faster. I don't move from the spot, just staring at Alexander's back in nothing but silence.

But I guess Alexander heard me, because he says, "You can come out, Little one. I don't bite."

His voice shakes me to the bones. I don't know why. But our conversation at the night and me opening up to him changed things for me. It changed them a lot. And I now see him in a whole new perspective.

I climb through the window and walk closer to where he's sitting, wrapping my arms around myself to protect myself from the morning cold. I notice a cigarette in Alexander's hand. How typical. I wonder how many of them he smokes per day.

"You sure do smoke a lot," I make my first comment, sitting down beside him. When I look at him, I notice he has one-sided grin on him.

He looks tired, his face is white and his eyes are clouded. Has he even slept at all? It sure doesn't look so.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks with a groggy voice. For how long has he been sitting out here, alone in this cold?

I shrug, looking at my toes. "Why do you smoke so much?" I try.

Alexander huffs. "Because cigarettes apparently shorten your life."

I raise my eyebrows at him, looking at him in surprise. "Are you suicidal?" I blurt out without much thinking. I don't realise that you can't ask a person that.

Before I can take it back, Alexander laughs. "Do I look like I want to fucking kill myself?"

I stare at him and think about his question. "Mmm. No, but you do look like you want to kill someone else."

He grins. "Now you're talking."

I grin, too, and shake my head. I pull the sleeves of my sweater over my hands because they're starting to get cold. "I don't want you to tell your parents about what happened last night."

Alexander looks at me, now with interest, cocking his head to the side. "Why the hell not?"

Is he serious? Does he even know what that could cause? How much unwanted attention it could bring on me? I don't want people to know about what happened. Sam, Alexander and Snake are enough. And I doubt Ryder will tell anyone about it. At least I hope so.

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