A Script for Seven Years: Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Alex

I look up at Cal, smiling softly. "Thank you," I tell him.

Cal's hard expression softens, the tension melting out of his shoulders the moment Mark is out of view. He lets out a long, ragged breath and rests his forehead against mine.

"You don't ever have to thank me, Alex," He whispers, his voice thick with emotion that he can't quite conceal. "Never."

The silence of the auditorium settles around us again, heavy but no longer suffocating. The ghost of the woods, of the skeletal trees and the bruised purple sky that had threatened to consume me in the cafeteria feels miles away now. Grounded in his lap, listening to the steady pounding of his heart beneath his shirt, the world feels manageable.

I look down at his hand, resting against my waist. "What happened back there?" I ask softly, tracing the back of his hand. "It felt... like I was dying. Like the air turned to glass."

Cal's grip tightens slightly on my waist as a shadow crosses his face for a second, before settling back into a calm mask. "It was just a panic attack," He says gently, though his eyes dart away for a split second as he says this. "You just got overwhelmed. Lucy was being loud, the cafeteria was crowded..."

"No." I interrupt. "It wasn't just the noise, Cal. It was when Lucy mentioned your house. It was like a switch flipped in my brain." I look up at him, trying to read his expression. "Why does the thought of your house terrify me?"

A dangerous stillness washes over Cal. His muscles tighten just as they did when Mark threatened to take me away. He stares at me, his expression desperate. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words seem to be trapped in his throat.

"Alex," He says, his voice cracking slightly. He moves his arm on my waist to brush along my jawline, making my breath hitch. "Don't try to force it, please. Just breathe for now. You're safe with me. I promise, as long as I'm standing, nothing can hurt you."

I want to push him for answers. I want to ask why his promise feels less like a comfort, and more like a battle cry. But seeing the raw devotion in his eyes, I can't do it. I can't break the fragile peace we just built.

Instead, I nod, closing my eyes and pressing my face to his chest. I don't know what lurks in the dark corners of my subconscious, or why the mention of Cal's house made my skin crawl with instinctual, nameless dread. But as Cal wraps his arms around me, pulling me tighter, I know one thing for certain.

I may not know the monster, but I recognize my protector.