alexandlena

“Dance,” he says, at the same time closing those last few inches and finding my hand and pulling me closer, and at that second the song hits a high note and I confuse the two impressions, of his hand and the soaring, the lifting of the music.

We dance.

—  Delirium 
“Dance,” he says, at the same time closing those last few inches and finding my hand and pulling me closer, and at that second the song hits a high note and I confuse the two impressions, of his hand and the soaring, the lifting of the music.
We dance.
Most things, even the greatest movements on earth, have their beginnings in something small. An earthquake that shatters a city might begin with a tremor, a tremble, a breath. Music begins with a vibration. The flood that rushed into Portland twenty years ago after nearly two months of straight rain, that hurtled up beyond the labs and damaged more than a thousand houses, swept up tires and trash bags and old, smelly shoes and floated them through the streets like prizes, that left a thin film of green mold behind, a stench of rotting and decay that didn’t go away for months, began with a trickle of water, no wider than a finger, lapping up onto the docks.
And God created the whole universe from an atom no bigger than a thought.
Grace’s life fell apart because of a single word: sympathizer. My world exploded because of a different word: suicide.
Correction: That was the first time my world exploded. The second time my world exploded, it was also because of a word. A word that worked its way out of my throat and danced onto and out of my lips before I could think about it, or stop it.
The question was: Will you meet me tomorrow? And the word was: Yes.
—  Lauren Oliver, Delirium.
After Pandeminium ends...

SPOILERS!!

Fanfic I wrote for after the book ends and Alex and Lena are reunited :)  I put a bit of the last page to catch you up.  The my part start at ’**‘  Is it okay? :)

“Promise me we’ll stay together, okay?”  His eyes are once again the clear blue of a perfectly transparent pool.  They are eyes to swim in, to float in, forever.  “You and me.”

“I promise” I say

Behind us the door creaks open, and I turn around, expecting Raven, just as a voice cuts through the air: “don’t believe her.”

The whole world closes around me, like an eyelid: for a moment, everything goes dark.

I am falling. My ears are full of rushing; I have been sucked into a tunnel, a place of pressure and chaos.  My head is about to explode.

He looks different.  He is much thinner, and a scar runs from his eyebrow all the way down to his jaw.  On his neck, just behind his left ear, a small tattoo number curves around the three-pronged scar that fooled me, so long ago, into believing he was cured.  His eyes-once a sweet, melted brown, like syrup-have hardened.  Now they are stony, impenetrable.  Only his hair is the same: that auburn crown, like leaves in autumn. 

Impossible.  I closed my eyes and reopen them: the boy from a dream, from a different lifetime.  A boy brought back from the dead.

Alex.                                                                       

**As my tears begin to blur my vision, I take my arms away from Julian’s waist and start toward Alex.

My pace quickens and I stop inches away from him.  Julian’s eyes are burning a hole on my back but I can’t turn, can’t explain.  All I can do is stare into the eyes of the boy who saved me for the cost of his own life.

I put my hand to his cheek and feel him flinch under my fingertips, but he doesn’t pull away.  I can see the muscles in his jaw working, his once warm and welcoming eyes as hard as stone.  “You’re- You’re alive” is all I can manage to whisper as tears begin to spill down my cheeks. 

Alex doesn’t move away but he doesn’t respond to my touch like he did before;  He doesn’t turn into it.  All I can see when I look at him is the boy on the other side of the fence.

He doesn’t say anything, and once I assure myself that he is real, my shock turns to anger. I move my hand away from his face and bring it back full force against his cheek.

“How could you?  You left me!  You were supposed to be behind me!  You-You deserted me!  I was alone! I was scared!” my voice raises as I push him.  He doesn’t say anything.

“You left, you were supposed to be behind me.  I was leaving for us to be together, we were leaving to be together, I was not supposed to be on my own” I yell as the tears come quicker and I push him again.

His eyes are just as hard as when he walked in.  Apart from the red hand print on his left cheek, he is drained of colour.  He isn’t looking at me like he use too.  He’s not telling me that it’s okay, that he’s here.  He is just looking at me as if I just kicked a puppy; with hurt, discuss, anger, and hatred.  It infuriates me.

I push him again and again, my cry hiccupping over and over again, and then I collapse in his arms, and hug him, holding him tight to me.  His arms don’t move from his sides.  His fingers don’t go to my hair like they use to.  I stand like that for what feels like seconds but I know must be minutes.

He finds my fingers from around his waist and brings them back to my side.  His eyes locked on something, or someone, behind me.  As I turn I see that Julian is staring at Alex and then, his eyes fall to me.  His eyes aren’t hurt, or accusing, but understanding.

He knows this is the boy who made me sick, who changed my life the way I’ve changed Julian’s.  Who ruined me, and who saved me.  I turn back around to Alex but he’s already backing away, his gaze still on Julian until he turns on his heels and walks away without saying a word to me.  I know now that this boy is a shell, he is like a chocolate rabbit, hollow.  This is Alex, but most definitely not my Alex.

Julian moves next to me, grabs my hand and squeezes it twice.