The impermanence of love. (AU.)

”I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”

And yet, here we are.

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Alexander was a charmer, a flirt. He never truly caught these feelings and he knew all too well the impermanence of life, the mortality of those around him; for everybody around him had died, or left him. He ed ill of his mother and their final memories, for the memories were shrewd with the thick sickness that plagued the two. Only Alexander had survived. He was a survivor.

Cue a year later, the cousin that had so generously taken him in, decided that life wasn’t all too compelling in the first place, and there was no proper reasoning for them to carry on. So that left them swaying from the ceiling. Alexander hoped they grew wings. Even then, he had his brother James. This bright side clouded over just as quickly. Alexander, lying about his age and saying he was two years older than he was, in order to get a job, in order to live, became a clerk for a merchant. This left a rogue document around that contradicted his birth certificate. But whilst Alexander got this job, his dear brother James had left him, to be an apprentice for a carpenter.

He wished him well. Alexander never knew what had become of him. He wanted the best.

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Learning about death at such a young age had it’s hardships. Naturally. Though Alexander convinced the world around him that he was okay, because now he was. Some would call him immoral, some would call him unfair. The rest would call him an outright asshole. Alexander couldn’t lie and say any of these weren’t true, for every single insult hurled his way, he usually had coming. Alexander wouldn’t try and cover up every mistake he’s made, every heart he’s broken, by saying he was a product of his past. He was not a victim, he was a survivor.

He just so happened to be an asshole too.

In reality, from an unbiased eye, maybe it could be tied down to his past, his unjust actions that had yet to be revelled. Given Alexander’s upbringing and how his father left, and the actions that followed, Alexander didn’t particularly get too much affection, too much attention. Of course, when he had written to his father, describing the consequences of the hurricane and the damage around him, in such vigorous detail, it had been published. It gained attention, enough to send him to where he was now. But that wasn’t the attention he craved.

Now, attention starved, he got any attention he could get, lived off of that like a junkie to heroine. Addiction was a disease. What Alexander chose to do, was not. Though it still hurt those around him. Enough being kept in the dark. Let’s shed the light on the sins that shamed the Caribbean so. How many victims did he have? One? Two? Maybe three? No. Plenty more than that. He was sure he couldn’t count them all on his hands, maybe not even with his feet. The victims of such a terrible crime. Their lives may have not ended, but such time was wasted, and they would never get it back.

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Alexander knew just what to say to a woman, or even a man. He knew how to draw them in, and make them feel like they were the most important thing in the universe, in Alexander’s eyes. They were always deceived. The amount of women Alexander had to pick from, were endless, the men, just as generous. He would devote time into them, play into their hands. Alexander knew just how to make them feel like they were in control.

Act clumsy, be disarming. You don’t see where this is going yet? Then you’re just like them. If you do, congratulations, the claws haven’t dug their way into you just yet. Sometimes it would take months for Alexander to achieve what he was looking for, the longest it had taken was a year. The shortest was probably a fortnight. They all mixed in between. Though the longest was definitely the most satisfying, the one that had blood rushing to Alexander’s cheeks, the one that made him feel satisfied. Though this satisfied feeling would linger and last only a few moments.

What was the results he was looking for? He wanted them to be in love with him. Alexander loved the process. The eventual, subtle purse of their lips, trying to draw attention to them. The way they’d aimlessly follow him around, without even realising they were doing it. Alexander could ignore them for hours, yet they would always be willing to talk to him. When they did talk? They’d twist their hair nervously between their fingers, avoid eye or attempt to over compensate and give too much. Alexander’s favourite thing, though, really, was watching their doe eyes turn wide, drowning in love and adoration for him. They were in love.

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After this development, what did he do to them? What made Alexander such a terrible person and these people victims of him yet again? It was simple. He did this for one reason. He made them fall in love with him, for the sole reason of breaking them. It was such a delightful thing, to watch their lovesick eyes widen in despair. The hurt that etched their face was delectable. The stubborn ones were particularly fun, as they would look away, trying to pretend that they didn’t care at all. Yet Alexander could so clearly see the tremble in their figure, he could hear the shake in their voice. He had made them so weak. He loved to see it, the tears in their eyes, glazing over their sadness and just making it so much sweeter.

Breaking them was easy, only a pastime. He would come clean. Harsh words would spew from his lips like garbage in the sewers, leaking to the surface. He would cup their cheek, hold them so lovingly like they have gotten used to. Alexander’s fingertips calloused from his writings, thumb brushing over their cheekbone. The fond smile on Alexander’s lips would be ruthlessly contradicting to his words, that came out sickly sweet.

“You mean nothing to me.”

Panic. Panic would flash through their eyes, and then Alexander would feast, sink his teeth down. They would try and pull away. He would let her. There were so many different ways they could react, anger, sadness, disappointment. Whatever. It all flooded through them in different ways, and Alexander ate it all up. He was a horrible man. To crush somebody so. He’d go in for the kill and he would never think about it. Not once had he caught feelings for one of them.

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To the present day. Now he was here. Stood in front of Eliza. He knew from day one that he would end up hurting her. That had always been his goal. It was an inevitable result of his months of courtship. Yet, standing here now, in front of her dark, loving eyes and alluring features, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Alexander hadn’t expected this to happen, but what did he expect to do his entire life? Did he expect to cause an endless cycle of heartbreak with no redemption? He didn’t know. He didn’t look into the future.

Yet, here he was, thinking about his future with this woman. This woman that has caused such feelings to instil within him. The warmth in his chest and the sweatiness of his palms, the way he found himself running a hand through his reddish brown locks every couple of seconds. Alexander shouldn’t have let it get this far, but here he was. The next victim, had become the persecutor, although he knew that Eliza had no ill intent. It was just him. He had realised that he had feelings for her when he thought about meeting her father.

What business did he have, meeting her father? What right did he have? Meeting the man, the father of the woman he had intended to break. He wouldn’t bring himself to look at him. Even if now, he didn’t want to hurt sweet Elizabeth, for he had gotten far too attached for it to be healthy, he needed to. Alexander knew that if he didn’t intentionally hurt her now, he would accidentally do it later. So to make it less damaging, he wanted to at least have control over the situation.

He ed meeting Eliza. The way she immediately looked to him with such adoration. He also ed what he had thought when he saw her.

“Oh, this’ll be easy.”

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Eliza’s hand came steadily up, cupping Alexander’s cheek. A gentle rub of her thumb came over his cheekbone, and his attention snapped back to her. Doe eyed and patiently waiting. She looked at Alexander as if she was memorising every feature, every freckle and it’s place. “Alexander, fret not. Pull yourself from your thoughts that you forever linger in.” Her voice soft, and caring, yet the scolding, motherly tone was there, and the most prominent thing the redhead could hear.

He leans into her hand, a small smile played at Alexander’s lips. The once incessant, rambling man, had no idea what to say. It seemed that he couldn’t even speak, the harder he tried, the more he felt like he had forgotten completely. So he did not try, his mouth fell closed and he waited a few seconds, the patient eyes gently pressing his words out nonetheless. “What I say next, may completely sully the means of our relationship and how you’ve viewed me.” Alexander replies, voice calm, smooth and, for once, genuine.

Met with silence, he took it upon himself to break it. “I have no romantic attachment to you, Eliza; I love you none.” Alexander did not say this with conviction, voice loose as his violet blue eyes flickered to the floor. “You were a scene of frivolousness that I have no intentions of progressing. I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”

The words lingered. It was quiet. He could only hear his own shaky breathing, it was the loudest thing in the room, and he did not look to see if Eliza had been hurt by his words. His figure trembled, and his voice had shaken. Why, does he feel like one of the victims he had broken? Alexander was doing everything he looked for when he was the persecutor. He felt his eyes glaze with tears, an obvious sign that his previous words did not come from the heart, no matter how badly he wanted them to. Did he hurt her?

Alexander was rest assured when he was met with a sincere laugh. “Don’t be so facetious.” He states coldly at her laughter, yet her hand still remained on his cheek, lifting it up to look back into his eyes. Eliza wasn’t amused, though there was no tint of sadness to be found. Her thumb busy wiping away the man’s tears, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the centre of his forehead, delicate as her fingers ran back his hair, trying her best to glare.

“I would believe you, my dear, if you could bare to look me in the eyes when you say it.” Eliza was mocking, she did not take this seriously. So Alexander tried, his attempt was fleeting, as he searched for emotion within her darker eyes. His mouth opened, flailed a bit as no words came out. He gave up. Alexander’s mouth, now shut. He wanted to say it. Alexander wanted to yell it in her face, he could not tell her he didn’t love her, he couldn’t lie to her like that. He knew this. She did too. He didn’t like giving her the satisfaction. Yet... she had taken his breath away.

“I love you too, Alexander.”

He didn’t need to say it, yet she knew. Alexander’s time of heartbreaking, came to a halt. The oxygen thief, had his breath taken away.

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Inspired by ‘Diary Of An Oxygen Thief.’ Loosely strung together!! :)