ALEXANDRA
The whore of Greenwoods. That's what they call me. The whispers follow me everywhere, as unavoidable as the town’s stench of decay and judgment. It doesn’t matter that I’m not what they say I am. The label sticks, and I’ve learned to wear it like a shield. Smoking and drinking have become my refuge, a way to numb the pain of their relentless scorn.
The pub is dimly lit, a haze of cigarette smoke hanging heavy in the air. It’s a place where the broken come to drown their sorrows, where I find a semblance of solace among the ruins of lost hopes. I sit at the far end of the bar, nursing a whiskey. The amber liquid burns down my throat, a welcome distraction from the hollow ache in my chest.
The door swings open, and I feel the shift in the atmosphere before I see him. The room goes silent, the murmur of conversations dying down to whispers. Alexander strides in, commanding attention with an air of effortless authority. He’s a bad boy, the kind mothers warn their daughters about, but his allure is undeniable. Tall, dark, and dangerously handsome, he exudes an aura of raw, untamed energy. His leather jacket clings to his broad shoulders, the very picture of rebellion and allure.
I watch him from the corner of my eye, feigning indifference as he approaches the bar. The seat beside me is empty, and he takes it without a word. His presence is overwhelming, like a storm brewing on the horizon. I keep my gaze fixed on my drink, my fingers tightening around the glass. The silence between us is thick, charged with an electric tension.
Alexander doesn’t speak, and I don’t look at him. We sit in a bubble of shared silence, the world around us fading into a distant blur. The bartender, sensing the tension, refills my glass and nods at Alexander. He orders a whiskey, his voice low and smooth. I can feel the weight of his gaze on me, but I refuse to acknowledge it. I’ve built walls around my heart, and I’m not about to let them crumble for someone like him.
The minutes stretch on, each one heavier than the last. The pub slowly comes back to life, but the whispers persist. I hear my name mentioned, the same venomous tone of contempt that I’ve grown used to. Alexander’s jaw tightens, a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. He glances around the room, and the whispers die down once more, as if his mere presence is enough to silence the town’s cruelty.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I turn to him, my eyes meeting his with a defiant glare. “What do you want?”
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “A drink. Is that a crime?”
His voice is deep, laced with a hint of amusement. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I roll my eyes, trying to maintain my composure. “No, but sitting next to me might be.”
He chuckles, the sound low and rough. “I can handle it.”
We lapse back into silence, but this time it feels different. There’s a connection, a spark that wasn’t there before. I sip my whiskey, feeling the warmth spread through my veins. The alcohol dulls the edges of my pain, making it easier to bear the weight of the town’s judgment.
Alexander’s presence is a paradox. He’s intimidating, yet there’s something about him that draws me in, like a moth to a flame. I catch glimpses of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior, moments when his guard slips and I see the real him. It’s dangerous, this attraction, but I can’t help it. He’s a puzzle, and I’ve always loved a challenge.
We continue to drink in silence, the tension between us growing with each passing moment. The pub is our sanctuary, a place where we can hide from the world and lose ourselves in the haze of alcohol and smoke. Alexander’s hand brushes against mine, a fleeting touch that sends a jolt of electricity through my body. I pull away, my heart racing.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “You might get burned.”
I glare at him, my pride stinging. “I’m not afraid of a little heat.”
He chuckles again, but there’s a darkness in his eyes, a warning that I can’t ignore. “We’ll see about that.”
The night wears on, and the pub empties out. It’s just the two of us now, the silence stretching like a taut wire. Alexander finishes his drink and stands, his movements graceful and fluid. He looks down at me, his gaze intense.
“I’ll see you around, Alexandra.”
It’s the first time he’s said my name, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I watch him leave, my heart pounding in my chest. There’s something about him, something that makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t in a long time. I finish my drink and stand, my legs unsteady. The night air is cool against my skin as I step outside, the town’s shadows closing in around me.
The whispers follow me as I walk home, but for the first time, they don’t hurt as much. Alexander’s presence lingers, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, I’m not as alone as I think.
---
ALEXANDER
I’ve known Alexandra for years, ever since we were kids running around the streets of Greenwoods. Back then, she was just Alex, a wild spirit with a laugh that could light up the darkest corners of this godforsaken town. We were inseparable once, best friends who shared secrets and dreams. But time changes everything.
Life has a way of twisting the purest of things, and Greenwoods has twisted us both in ways we never imagined. Alexandra’s laughter is gone, replaced by a hard edge and a bitter smile. I see it every time I look at her, a reflection of my own battles fought and lost.
I watch her now, the way she clings to her whiskey glass like it’s a lifeline. She pretends not to notice me, but I can feel her tension, the way her body tightens when I’m near. We’ve danced around each other for too long, each of us trapped in our own prisons of pain and pride.
It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when Alex’s eyes held nothing but trust and warmth for me. But I let her down. I walked away when she needed me most, and I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since. Coming back to Greenwoods was my way of facing my demons, and she’s the biggest one of all.
“Why did you come back, Alexander?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and accusing.
I meet her gaze, the intensity of her eyes pulling me in. “You know why.”
She scoffs, turning away. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You left. You didn’t look back.”
“I had my reasons,” I say quietly, the memories of that night still haunting me.
“Reasons,” she echoes, bitterness lacing her words. “We all have reasons, Alexander. Some of us don’t get the luxury of running away.”
Her words sting, but I don’t flinch. She has every right to be angry, to hate me for what I did. But I’m here now, and I’m not leaving again. “I’m not running anymore.”
She laughs, a hollow, mirthless sound. “Good for you. But it doesn’t change anything.”
“It could,” I say, leaning closer. “If you let it.”
She shakes her head, her eyes hard. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“Maybe not,” I admit. “But I’m here, Alex. For whatever it’s worth.”
For a moment, she’s silent, her gaze searching mine. I can see the conflict in her eyes, the war between the girl she was and the woman she’s become. “It’s not worth much.”
“Maybe not now,” I say softly. “But it could be. If you give it a chance.”
She looks away, the walls around her heart rising higher. “Don’t push your luck, Alexander.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips.
The night stretches on, filled with a silence that speaks louder than words. We’re two broken souls trying to find our way back to something we lost a long time ago. It’s not going to be easy, but nothing worth fighting for ever is.
As the pub empties and the world outside grows still, I know one thing for certain: I’m not giving up on Alexandra. Not now, not ever. We’ve got a long way to go, but I’ll walk every step of the way if it means finding our way back to each other.
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