sweethearts

𝟎𝟗 • september thirtieth

(trigger warning: unwanted closeness)

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CHAPTER NINE:
"SEPTEMBER THIRTIETH"
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ALÍZ SITS RATHER UNCOMFORTABLY in the dark and lonely room. The guilt Alíz felt overwhelmed her. The group of psychopaths threw the men from the shipyard off the roof of the Gotham Gazette. Those men died, and Alíz stood by and let it happen. If she hadn't been so afraid, she could've prevented it.

She continued to overthink the terrible deaths that had occurred; perspiration collected on the back of her neck as the room suddenly grew warmer.

Alíz looks over to the foot of the bed and sees Jerome was sleeping on the floor in front of her. "Psst, Jerome. You awake," Alíz asks as she leans over the bed to look at him. "No," he murmurs back a muffled response. Alíz rolls her eyes, "Can you come up here, please."

"Why," he asked, annoyed with her. "I need my best friend right now, please," Alíz dragged out the last word as she begged him. Jerome remains silent for a while; Alíz began to think that he finally fell asleep until he stood up and sat on the left side of her bed. Alíz scoots over a bit and pats the empty spot next to her. Jerome hesitantly lays down next to her. The girl knew this was awkward for him—it was for her too if not even more than what he must've felt.

Nothingness was all that could come to their ears as the two stared at each other. The moonlight cut through the small window and lit up the room slightly. Alíz and Jerome could now fully see what they were looking at. Jerome's face was almost unreadable, but the girl could detect a few nervous ticks here and there: the back of his neck dripped sweat, he kept averting his gaze from hers, and his brow twitched slightly. As Alíz continued to observe his face, she realized how beautiful he was all over again.

After a while, Alíz flips over onto her side, avoiding his gaze altogether. She didn't want to be reminded of him, of who he is, what he is—of who he used to be. As her brain wandered into the depths of her memories, she didn't notice when an arm snaked around her waist. Only when the space between them became minuscule did Alíz begin to notice.

She didn't exactly want to complain, but she wasn't exactly sure how to react. It wasn't an alarming action... But, Alíz didn't feel comfortable.

Jerome had essentially trapped Alíz in what was supposed to be a loving hug. This wasn't what Alíz meant when she said didn't want to be alone. The girl didn't say anything. All she did was let him pull her closer. She didn't know why she didn't just open her mouth and tell him to go back to his makeshift bed on the floor. Maybe it was a habit, something she couldn't get rid of. She feels frozen, paralyzed.

Alíz lets out a shakey exhale to try and calm her beating heart. At this point, she just wants to sleep.

"Goodnight, Alíz," Jerome whispers almost incoherently. The girl's entire body tensed when she heard the sound of her name coming out of his mouth. Jerome must've noticed because he immediately responded with, "Hey, you okay?" Alíz gulped nervously and just blew it off, "Alíz?"

Jerome blinks and is taken aback, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about something else, I guess. Sorry, Anna." Alíz tried to ignore it, but she still takes note of this specific memory.