Behind Closed Doors (Lams)

~16~ Melancholy avenue.

A/N man alex is really going places! the mental hospital probably but that's still a place!

TW: implication of SA, mini panic attack, general anxiety, everything that comes with alex as a whole, unreliable narrator, main character has no game and absolutely ZERO play, main character pulls no bitches, main character needs to get a grip, main character is dogshit at bowling, author is projecting because I'm also dogshit at bowling

Alex needed to tell Lafayette.

He'd decided it was probably the best option here. It was better to come clean now, tell him how he felt before anything actually happened. Just so that, if he wasn't okay with this, Alex still would have plenty of time to stop it from getting any worse.

It seemed logical enough. He couldn't control his feelings, after all, so it's not like Lafayette could really get mad at him for them. Plus, he was always saying that Alex needed to open up more, so this was the only time he was going to actually do it. He needed help, and it had been drilled into him over and over again that if he needed it, he should ask for it.

Alex felt sick. Heart palpitating from the anxiety. He was kind of sweating as he opened the door to his room. Was it normal to be this terrified of everyone? Even if you're related?

Lafayette was on the phone.

He paused for a second, and he couldn't work any words around his mouth after he looked in his direction. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

His brother looked at him, phone balanced on his shoulder. "Can it wait a bit?"

"It's sort of important."

"I'm on a call." Lafayette sighed. "How important is it? Is it about you?"

Alex's voice was going all quiet again, could he do this? Could he? What was he supposed to say? And what if- "It's not. It's okay. I'll just, like, talk to dad or something."

Lafayette called after him as he walked out of the room again. "Alex, if it's actually important, I can talk to you about it."

"It's fine." His head was down, now, body out of the room but his hand still on the doorknob. "Leave it. It can wait."

"Later, I promise."

"Whatever." Alex closed the door on him, immediately sitting with his back to it. His knees had given out underneath him. He had no chance. Absolutely no chance. He couldn't do it, and he couldn't tell John, so he was sort of just floating between his options. Pining. This was fucking unbearable. Everything was too much and too little and the worst part was that he needed to see John now, even though he was the literal cause of Alex's problems. He was getting nothing out of this. Nothing but a gross obsession and yet the closest thing he'd ever felt to love. Was love more important than his long-term happiness? Wasn't it more important than anything? And maybe it was, since there was nothing else quite like it. Alex would have to think on that later.

He stood up, brushing the wrinkles from his clothes. He needed to get out, it didn't matter if it was five O'clock in the evening and his curfew was six. He'd force Benjamin to drive him if he had to.

Stumbling down the stairs, he opened the door to the living room. Martha and George were both sitting on the sofa, and there were some playing cards scattered on the coffee table. Her feet were tucked under her body, a cup of coffee in her hands. This looked like a good conversation, was he interrupting?

"Alex?" Martha laughed at the way he just stood there. Didn't say anything. "What do you need, baby?"

He touched one of his hands to the top of the doorframe, a pitiful attempt at acting casual. "Nothing. What are you doing?"