Pretty Boy [bxb] | ✔️

• Chapter fifty-nine: Comtemplation

I sigh. This is such a tricky situation that I know I shouldn't really get involved in. I know how opposed Alex was to me even sitting in a car outside the police station. How would he feel if I wrote a letter that had landed in the hands of his own father?

"I woke up and you weren't there," Alex says from the hallway, stood in just his underwear with his hair disheveled from sleeping, and pouting slightly. I reach over and close the laptop. "What're you doing?" He asks as he walks closer.

"Nothing," I dismiss as I stand up and walk over to him. "Good morning," I say before I kiss him

"Then why are you closing the laptop in such a hurry? What are you hiding?" He says with a skeptical look.

"I'm not hiding anything. I just closed it to come and give you attention instead," I lie, continuing to play it off. I go into the kitchen area and open the cupboard where the cereal is stored. "What do you want for breakfast?"

He brushes me off, "No, I want to know what you're up to."

"Can't you respect my privacy?" I ask, placing a box of cereal on the countertop.

He scoffs, "It's my laptop."

"I was looking at presents for your birthday," I blurt out, which is stupid because his birthday isn't any time soon, and I definitely would not be looking for presents on his laptop.

"My birthday isn't for another two months," He tells me.

"Pretty much a month and a half," I correct him.

"Cut the crap, you weren't looking at presents. Why are you lying?"

And now I'm nervous because I lied, and he seems annoyed, and I'm so terrified of another argument. So terrified that, ever since, I've been scared of saying something wrong. It's not because I think little of Alex or that I think he gets annoyed easily or really anything to do with him personally, it's just that our fight made me feel so horrible inside and I don't want to feel that again, and I don't want him to feel horrible again either, because it was all my fault, and I take responsibility for that.

I don't want anything to happen to us. Ever. This is such a small thing, I know, I remind myself of that, but I'm so conscious that it can lead to an argument.

Not a big deal. Not a big deal. Not a big deal.

A big deal to him.

Fuck.

"Alex—" I start.

But it's too late. He's already opened the laptop and, before I know it, has typed in the password. His forehead creases in a frown when he takes in what I had searched up before looking up at me in confusion.

"Why are you looking up—" Then it dawns on him. "No, baby no. You're not thinking of visiting my dad, are you?" I don't say anything, but he can read me enough to know that the answer is a yes. "Why?"

"Because you deserve to know why he treated you the way he did. You didn't get the answer when you went so I thought I'd go and see if I could get any sort of answer from him," I explain.

Alex signs and gives me a certain look, "I don't want you going to a prison, gorgeous. Not near my dad."

That's exactly why I didn't want to tell him. He's so again me being around prisons and I don't understand why. What does he think would happen to me? And if I did visit Mr Montgomery, it's not like he could really hurt me. There would be police officers around and glass between us. I'm not that weak that any mean thing Mr Montgomery says to me will make me hit rock bottom.